Bringing Down the Walls
by mctwist
Summary: This thing is so over.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**Summary: **In his 7th year at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw Dainius Kaminskas has his life turned upside down by a relic from the past: a journal of unimaginable importance that forever changes his life, and changes the rules of magic. While he struggles with the other students to carry on life as they knew it at a darker, more sinister, Snape-run Hogwarts, he must make decisions that will alter the course of the war, and the world. This story is completely independent of and compliant with Book Seven.

**  
Disclaimer: **Beyond the characters that I've invented here, and some of the plot elements, I really own nothing here. I make no claim to own anything that JKR created; I'm just playing in her sandbox for a while.

**Warnings: **It's rated M for a reason, kids, expect some violence, sexual situations, language, substance use/what have you. Also expect rainbows, bunnies, and plenty of awkward romance. Just because it's rated M, doesn't mean that everything has to be dark and depressing.

_January 16__th__, 1962. Alytus, Lithuania._

The door opened slowly, noiselessly, and in the light of the moon, a man's face could be seen peering through. He was not yet middle-aged, and despite premature worry-lines, and bags below his eyes, his bright features lit up as he observed the sleeping figure before him. His son, his greatest pride, greater than all of his work, his accomplishments. And that was saying something, he mused, since he was on the verge of uncovering what he had been searching for. The gateway that would change everything.

He had searched endlessly. The gateway. It was here, lord knows why it would be here, but it was. By the coast. Somewhere by the coast. Never in plain sight, no, it wouldn't give up its secrets that easily. He had written as much as he knew about it in the book that he was holding, a slightly faded brown leather-bound journal. The journal never left his side anymore; it was far too valuable and dangerous to leave alone. He knew the risk he was taking by recording his findings, but he could not let it go to waste if he met his end before he could complete his work.

Assured that his son was sleeping soundly, he closed the door again. He went to the next room over, and his wife was sitting in bed with a book, reading by the lamp. It was nearly midnight, but he had work yet to do.

"How much later will you be up, Jonas?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm so close. So close to conquering this. I have to keep searching through records, so I'll probably be up for another few hours yet."

"Well, I think you should go to bed early. We could both do with more sleep," she said smiling as she set her book aside.

"I'll follow as soon as I can, Audra," he said with a half-smile. She guessed that he wouldn't be in bed for hours yet, but she didn't know the truth of it. He strode down the hallway, until he stood before a tall bookshelf. It seemed identical to the other bookshelves lining the walls, but it was something far more important. As the man brushed the shelf lightly with his hand, it sprang to the side, revealing that it was a doorway, rather than an innocent shelf after all.

He stepped through and surveyed the rooms. The number of books scattered across the small room was immense, enough to easily fill all of the shelves lining the hall. From topics as diverse as magical theory to Lithuanian geography, the books seemed to cover every surface. There was a map on the wall with dozens of spots marked. And of course, there was the same faded journal, which he set down on a writing desk.

Many hours passed by, but to the man, time had no concept. He went about the room, leafing through books, pulling pins out of the map, and writing things in the journal. He had no idea that his world was about to come crashing down on him until it was already too late.

He sensed them without using his senses. They were too good; he knew that they would be invisible, noiseless, and hiding any scent. But he could pick up their magical presence. You may be able to hide the body, but you can't hide the magic. There were six of them coming through the front door. This was the end. No one survived an encounter with the Secret Police. No one even knew who they were.

He ran from the room and resealed the bookshelf. He was confident that they would only be looking to steal his valuable possessions, and that their ransacking would cut short of searching for secrets in the house. Even though they were still on the floor below, he cast a disillusionment charm on himself, and crept through it back to the bedroom.

"_Audra,"_ he hissed from the doorway. She was already awake, and she knew that something was wrong. The man removed his disillusionment charm for half a second so that she could be sure that it was he. He began casting spells on a vase. As he cast the magic he said, "Grab _Jurgis _now and get back here. They're coming for us."

She nodded quickly and raced out of bed and down the hall. Jonas was amazed that they had already been afforded the time they had. The house was quite large, however, and someone unfamiliar with the layout, say, six assassins, might find it a bit difficult to navigate at first. He had no doubt that that was what they were. Assassins. But why? Either his research had become too dangerous, or Audra had finally gotten herself on a government hitlist. He suspected the latter; he kept his work as secretive as possible.

"_Oh, Audra,"_ he thought sadly. She was never one to stand idly by while a government as corrupt as theirs tried to walk all over everyone. She was a well-known advocate of independent rule, Capitalism, and the freedom to leave the country at will. All of these things deeply upset their Soviet Masters, and thus, in the shock of what was happening, it didn't seem like much of a surprise to Jonas right then, that the government had sent six men into his home to kill Audra and her family.

Audra came rushing back down the hallway with George in tow. He was too big to carry, but it didn't matter, he kept up. The look in his eyes, the fear, made Jonas' insides freeze up. He forced himself to resume breathing. "Grab the vase. Now. It's the only way out." He had prepared for this moment in advance. He had a contact set up in London, England, for when the time came to flee. This was their only shot out of the country. The government had placed bans on apparating in and out of the country, and there were no physical means to leave, and so an illegal portkey, arranged at great risk with someone on the outside, was the only method of escape.

The blasts came out of nowhere. Non-verbal spells cast by the invisible assassins. Two of them hit Jonas and threw him backward into the wall. Audra watched on in horror, knowing that they were mere seconds away from being destroyed.

Jonas lifted his head slightly, and whispered, "Go. _Now."_

She could not leave her husband, the man with whom she had promised to spend the rest of her life. But she had to. She knew that her son was the most important thing in the world to him, and so, in that split second, she made the hardest decision of her life as she grabbed the vase with George.

She was gone. Jonas felt himself in a strange haze, and his emotions fluctuated wildly between relief and horror. Relief. His darling wife and child had escaped this monstrosity engineered by the government. But that also meant that the portkey was no longer active. He had no escape.

Except for one, and he knew now that that was what he had to do. He had to find it. But he had to survive first. He yelled "Protego Maxima!" and a shield, thick and shimmering, appeared between himself and his invisible assassins. It would only last a moment, but that was all the time Jonas needed to disapparate.

He landed in the snow of a forest, one of the forests marked on his map, and his best possible guess. It was ancient beyond years, the tops of the trees far beyond the limits of human sight. The snow was colder than he could imagine, but he used magic to keep warm. He could not re-enter civilization now that he had escaped. He would be a wanted man everywhere. He felt bitter that he had lost everything: their beautiful home, all of his research, his family. But he was thankful to be alive. _"And besides," _he thought, _"This could be the culmination. Find it or perish."_

He wandered through the snow of the forest for many days, barely sustaining himself on the food that he could find; never making any permanent residence; always searching. He had no desire to become a hermit. He wanted out. And there was only one way out. The gateway.

The forest was immense, and finding it was no easy task, even when looking for magical residue. Searching for magic, he could sense a hundred times farther than he could with his eyes or ears, but it did him no good here. The forest _itself _was steeped in magic. If the gateway was here, and he was fairly sure that it was, it had disguised its magical signature carefully with the rest of the forest, as though the gateway itself was a part of it, like the trees, or the soil.

He knew that the forest would never allow him to find it any other way, though. This was magic beyond the work of the simple. This was far too important, and far too deadly, to allow access to just anyone. But there were ways of finding things beyond the senses. It was quite simple, in principle. The witch or wizard would enter into a trance, shutting down the non-essential bodily functions, completely eliminating the normal senses. As a result, the magical senses would be increased, to the point where picking out the subtlety of the gateway would be possible. The only problem was that by shutting down the bodily senses, the magician was left vulnerable and open to attack. Also, their body would continue to operate as per normal: They would need sleep, food, and warmth. If they were to stay in the trance for too long, they could end up dying without even realizing it.

Despite all this, it was a risk that Jonas Kaminskas had to take. So he cleared an area of the snow, setting fire wards around himself to keep warm and keep away any predators that might fancy him for a meal. He forced himself to sleep for a full 12 hours before the trance, and he ate the little food he had accumulated through his journey: Nuts, roots, and some berries, most of them tough and nearly inedible, thanks to the season.

Finally, as the little sunlight that the trees afforded became most prominent, Jonas pointed his wand at his heart and cast the spell. His eyes closed, and his body slumped back, safely within the circle of wards. He remained there, on the forest floor, heart kept beating only by the warmth of the fire that surrounded him. He scoured the forest, every inch of it, with his mind. And sure enough, after sixteen hours in the trance, he found what he was looking for. Had he been searching less closely, he would have passed right over it, the forest so magically dense. But there it was, the gateway, and it was nearby. Closer than he had imagined.

To leave the trance is the hardest part. To restart the senses that had previously been shut down, one has to believe in their use. One has to desire, more than anything, to smell the forest floor, to imagine the feel of the damp moss and soil on their back, to see again the dim light that filtered through the ancient trees, and to hear the immense silence of the forest. If Jonas could not do these things, he would never regain his senses.

He lay there for a while, the sun passing overhead, when suddenly his mouth opened and he sucked in a rattling breath. And his eyes flew open, and he was restored. His heart began pumping blood with it's usual fervor, his ears began to pick up all of the sounds he had been missing, and the incredible weakness, well, he could feel it in his bones. But he knew the location of the gateway, and there was no time to stop now.

He journeyed as fast as possible in his weakened state, and as the sun was rising, he found it. To the casual observer, there was nothing there beyond a stone pillar, located at the edge of the clearing, approximately 4 feet tall, with an indentation in the top.

Jonas rushed forward to examine the micro-pillar. There was an imprint, roughly the size of a thumb, in the top of the pillar. He studied it for a long moment, unsure of how to proceed. He tried speaking a variety of magical words, and cast a large number of spells, but the pillar seemed unaffected by any magic. It obviously had rules that he didn't understand. He stood before it again, and started feeling it, to see if there was any physical trigger to reveal what was hidden.

Besides being rough and crumbling, the stone pillar revealed nothing about the gateway. And then it clicked. Slowly, he lowered his thumb into the spot on the top of the pillar, and he gasped as he felt a slight prick. He pulled it away quickly to see the finest of cuts down the center. A single drop of blood was sitting in the indentation, but it disappeared almost as soon as he had seen it.

He smiled. Of course they would want to protect what was theirs, the people that made this. It was a good thing that he was one of them. And as he gazed up again, the gateway came into view. It was quite different from the way he imagined it: A beautiful stone arch, raised on a dais of the same material, some 20 feet tall in total, with a tattered black curtain draped down in front of it, rustling, even though the air was utterly still. There was something very otherworldly about it, and as Jonas approached, the world seemed to slow down around him.

He strode forward, limping slightly, up the steps of the dais, and stood in front of the veil. With one last breath, he leaned forward and let himself fall into the Veil. He was pulled away immediately.

But that was not the end of him, oh no. The world _beyond_ was precisely where he intended to travel. In this, he succeeded.

This prologue is shorter than the chapters to follow. For comparison, this chapter is 2500 words long, whereas those to follow will be approximately 3000 – 4500, on average. I hope you enjoyed, and please, leave a review!


	2. Tension, History, Revelations

**One: Tension, History, Revelations**

**Summary: **In his 7th year at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw Dainius Kaminskas has his life turned upside down by a relic from the past: a journal of unimaginable importance that forever changes his life, and changes the rules of magic. While he struggles with the other students to carry on life as they knew it at a darker, more sinister, Snape-run Hogwarts, he must make decisions that will alter the course of the war, and the world. This story is completely independent of and compliant with Book Seven.

**  
Disclaimer: **Beyond the characters that I've invented here, and some of the plot elements, I really own nothing here. I make no claim to own anything that JKR created; I'm just playing in her sandbox for a while.

**Warnings: **It's rated M for a reason, kids, expect some violence, sexual situations, language, substance use/what have you. Also expect rainbows, bunnies, and plenty of awkward romance. Just because it's rated M, doesn't mean that everything has to be dark and depressing.

* * *

A black motorcycle sped down the empty road. The rider wore no helmet, and his hair, tousled and dark brown, blew away from his pale face. He seemed to blend with the motorcycle, despite his lack of leathers or a helmet. The engine revved, and he popped the clutch to switch gears, moving faster. The engine roared loudly in protest, and the rider backed off the throttle a bit, giving the bike time to work through the gear.

Dainius Kaminskas was in a hurry. He eyed the sky fervently, not liking the encroaching darkness, or the thick black clouds that hung in the distance. The air was awash with humidity, and he was sure that were he not traveling 80 kilometers an hour, he would find breathing a chore. As it stood presently, he had no such issues. The rain, however, was another story. Daine felt fairly confident in his prediction of rain, and, in only a dark green t-shirt and faded jeans, he would be damned if he was going to get caught in it.

He considered Apparating, but he didn't have his license yet, and he couldn't just leave the bike anywhere. This motorcycle, a 1972 Triumph Bonneville, was his pride and joy. It was a piece of shit, to be certain, but it was one of the few Muggle possessions he owned, and it fascinated him. He didn't know why. Perhaps it was the gasoline-powered engine, the thick rubber tires, or the single, very dim, headlamp. It could be the smooth, angular body, black and sleek. Whatever it was, it had caused Daine to instantly desire it when he saw it there, for sale on that Muggle's lawn. It was a good thing his father dealt in Muggle currency, or it would have become very awkward to pay for it. And he couldn't just steal the thing either, although he was sure his father wouldn't have objected. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Slytherins. No regard for anyone's freedom but their own.

Buildings whirled past, becoming a concrete blur. He was in the heart of Brixton, and it was getting dark. _Definitely not slowing down now_, he thought. It was a dangerous place, once the sun set. Hell, even when the sun was up you didn't want to get caught on your own in there. It was August 31st, Daine's birthday. He had a cake waiting for him at home, and he'd promised his parents he'd be there by 8:30. He felt, particularly now, that it was a shame the motorcycle wasn't enchanted, otherwise he could have likely been there by now. Daine figured he'd get tired of the Muggle limitations of the vehicle eventually, but since today was his last day to ride it until Christmas, he didn't mind so much. There was no doubt in his mind: definitely the best birthday present he'd ever gotten. And once he had time, a few upgrades would certainly be in order. It'd give him something to do at school, he thought, coming up with modifications and learning the magic involved. Since he was officially 17 now, he could do the magic himself.

When he'd woken up that morning, he'd grabbed his wand and amused himself for a whole of 30 seconds, spinning random objects around the room. He knew the powers that came with turning seventeen were pretty huge, but it still hadn't sunk in yet. He'd spent the whole day in high Muggle society with his best friend Jack Clements (Who he had previously dropped off in Brixton), and so hadn't really had a chance to flex his new magical freedom. But he couldn't help showing off his new toy to Jack, who had alternated between horror (For a long time he seemed convinced that it would explode at any second) and amusement (It might not run the cleanest, but then it was over 25 years old now, so Daine didn't really expect it to). Jack came from a purely wizard family, and they had a hard enough time staying hidden in Muggle society, let alone enjoying any of it. Daine was pretty sure that Jack didn't understand his love affair with the motorcycle, but they'd been friends for so long that it was easy to overlook. Seven years tomorrow, Daine thought with a smile.

The smile quickly vanished in the next few seconds. On the road in front of him, which had grown dark beyond his dim headlamp now, several things happened at once. He saw a green flash, and heard _a lot _of noise. Breaking glass, yelling, and gunshots. That last one stuck in his head as he killed the headlight. Gunshots. _Shit. _Why the hell were there gunshots when clearly this was something magical?

The answer became rapidly apparent as he dropped the motorcycle to the curb. The streetlights were all out, the product of magic, or the violence that had just ensued, he could only guess. In the dim light remaining, he could see two hooded figures against a building, and about 10 more heads across the street. He recognized the point in the hoods. _Fucking Death Eaters! _He couldn't even tell if anyone was dead or not, shop windows were blown out, there was rubble everywhere, but the other 10 heads, well, they had guns. All 10 were crouched and firing at the Death Eaters, who seemed caught off guard by the resistance. One seemed to be bleeding. The other one growled, and something brilliantly green blasted out of his wand, dropping one of the 10. They dropped their bravado and ran. The pair of Death Eaters didn't seem inclined to pursue.

They seemed to be checking if the coast was clear when they spotted Daine's motorcycle. Daine crouched there, praying desperately that they couldn't seen his sneakers, but the two started moving toward the bike anyway. Daine had to formulate a plan, and fast. He couldn't take two Death Eaters, how the hell was he going to get out of this?

He jumped out from behind the motorcycle, pulling his wand from the back pocket of his jeans, and in the loudest voice he could manage, shouted "BACK THE HELL AWAY!"

This caught them by surprise. The two Death Eaters stopped in their tracks. Just seconds after they could register the fact that it was a wand in Daine's hand, and not a gun, he had begun casting spells at them. They felt large jets of light go whooshing past them, dangerously close to landing a hit. They both turned on the spot and disapparated, but not first before an awful "_Morsmordre!" _was whispered harshly by the wounded Death Eater. A giant skull, many hundreds of times larger than life, shot up into the air. A faintly green snake was winding its way out of the skull's mouth. Daine knew what it was, and, even though the danger had passed, an innate fear filled his stomach at the sight of it.

Daine regained his feet. He wasn't sure when he had fallen, but fortunately the rain was only just beginning, so he hadn't gotten too wet down there yet. The street was utterly silent. A flicker by the wall. A police cruiser screeched to a halt a few dozen yards away, and Daine knew he would have some awkward questions to answer. He quickly slipped his wand out of sight, and decided to regain his motorcycle, so as to better appear to be 1) A bystander and 2) A Muggle. He hoped the act would fly.

Just as he was picking up the bike, and flipped the selector to start it, an officer ran up to him.

"Son, what the hell happened here?"

"I dunno, I just arrived, nearly fell off my bike at the sight of it. I think there are a few bodies over there," Daine said, pointing toward the general area where the group had been. The police officer called to his partner, and after grunting at Daine to stay put, went jogging off to the area he had indicated. Just then, the wizard stepped out from the wall and stunned the both of them. His deep purple robes hung loosely on his massive frame. As he strode forward, he thrust his wand toward the sky, and muttered something. Red lightning erupted from the end of his wand, and the Dark Mark disappeared. This relieved Daine more than he thought would be possible.

"Nice work," his deep booming voice rang out on the empty street. It had a calming affect, and Daine took several deep breaths and called back, "Thanks! Might I ask who you are?" With a wave of his wand, the wizard conjured a light. "Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror's Office." he said, by way of greeting. His voice was warm, but serious; inviting, but dangerous. Daine realized that Kingsley didn't know what sort of role he had played here tonight. Daine knew how bad of an idea it was to mess around with the Aurors, and struggled to get the details straight in his head.

"What I told the cop back there was a half-truth," Daine shrugged, answering the unspoken question. "I didn't show up until after they had started fighting, but I saw most of it, and I wasn't involved. Total bystander," he said, throwing his hands up to emphasize his innocence.

"What happened? It looked like the street here got pretty wrecked up, and there are three bodies over there. The Death Eaters left their signature, but why isn't there more carnage? In fact, most of the damage looks Muggle," Kingsley trailed off, lost in thought.

Daine decided not to keep him in wonder. "Well, two Death Eaters either appeared here, or were already in the neighbourhood." He gestured to the area across the road, about 15 yards away, where the Death Eaters had been standing, "They'd spotted a group of about two dozen or so. Thought they'd have some fun." Daine smiled grimly, "Well, they obviously weren't the brightest, because the only people who wander about the streets of Brixton after dark in packs of two dozen are _gangs._ Two Death Eaters versus a Brixton street gang."

Kingsley looked quite surprised, and then reexamined the number of bodies in the street. "Yeah," Daine said, following his gaze, "They only got three of 'em. Real stupid blokes, the pair were, stood there so stunned at being faced by guns they couldn't even think to put up a shield. One got shot through like Swiss cheese, but both managed to make it out alive. They dropped two in the initial surprise, and a third after I got here."

"And they _shot_ them, did you say? With what?" Kingsley looked confused. Daine laughed to himself, but dared not make any noise aloud. He realized that he perhaps knew more about Muggles than this Auror did. "With guns, they're small metal things that fit into your hand. You pull a trigger, and it fires a piece of lead the size of my thumb here out the end at about 1500 feet per second in whichever direction you please."

Kingsley nodded his head, seeming to recognize the concept. "Anyway," Daine continued, "These two were caught off guard. They didn't think there'd be anyone firing back. They could have stopped the bullets with a simple shield, but it was too late. Those things travel fast. Even still, the nine that got out of here were lucky. If those Death Eaters had come to their senses, they probably would have been on the street here with their mates. That's how I got out of here, too. They saw me after the gang had left, and I managed to scare them off, basically. They thought I was a Muggle, see, so when I pulled a wand on them they backed off, threw up the Mark, and disapparated."

"Hmmm. Sounds to me like Crabbe and Goyle. Those two never were the brightest. Their master won't be pleased that they set off the Dark Mark here tonight, either. Quite foolish, to draw attention, just now." Kingsley sighed. "Well, we should clean this mess up. Or quite the opposite, rather," he chuckled grimly, and strode over to the three corpses on the street. "You may want to look away," Kingsley warned, and then he picked up a gun from one of the corpses, the biggest of the three.

Daine realized what he was about to do a second before it happened, and averted his eyes in time. Three quick shots rang out into the empty street. He couldn't hear the impact over the noise of the gun, and he thought that he might have been sick if they had. Kingsley strode back over, and held the gun out to Daine. "Keep it, you never know when you might need it. These are dangerous times." Daine accepted the weapon hesitantly, aware that it had just been made to look responsible for the death of the three gang members.

"The gang violence is getting out of hand, that much I know," Kingsley explained, "I used to act as a guard for the Muggle Prime Minister, but once things tipped over, well, it was no longer safe. I did what I could. This should act as a good-enough cover; the police wont look into this. Just another gang war."

Something stood out in Kingsley's explanation: "Once things tipped?" Daine asked.

"Yes, once the Ministry was compromised," Kingsley said sorrowfully.

"Oh, yeah. That Thicknesse must be a right prick to work for; his policy is completely insane. Muggle born registration," Daine snorted, "Next thing you know they'll be taking our wands."

Kingsley groaned, "I forget how little the general public knows. Please, get the word out: You Know Who is controlling the entire Ministry of Magic, Thicknesse is just a pawn, a face for the Dark Lord so that the public doesn't erupt into panic."

Daine felt his jaw slacken. "So when Scrimgeour died?"

"Yes, it was an expertly-executed coup. Of course you wouldn't hear anything about it through the Prophet, it's been compromised as well. As long as you're not a Muggleborn, you're safe, for now. We're doing what we can from the inside, but his web seems to be absolute. If you're returning to Hogwarts, be on your guard. Without Albus Dumbledore, the students are no longer safe."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, for everything, Mr. Shacklebolt." Daine was still reeling from the news. _The Dark Lord controls the Ministry! Was nothing safe anymore?_ He was jolted from his thoughts when the Auror laughed unexpectedly, the round, falsetto sound filling the street. "You can call me Kingsley. How are you getting home…?" he trailed off, indicating that Daine had never introduced himself.

"Oh, right, I'm Dainius Kaminskas. And my motorcycle is waiting for me over there," he said, flicking his chin toward the curb.

"Is that so? Your father must be George Kaminskas, then? Abraxis Holdings, very good work they do. Might be a Slytherin, but your father has a good heart in him," Kingsley smiled. Daine agreed. "I have a friend who used to own an enchanted motorcycle," he continued, "Got in a bit of a spot with some Death Eaters last month, I'm not sure what's left of it."

Daine's eyes lit up at this. "Not Sirius Black?" He felt kind of stupid afterward. Sirius Black had been dead for over a year now, and why would he be friends with a powerful Auror, cleared or not? The embarrassment was wiped off his face when a curious grin spread across Kingsley's face. "Now how would you know about that? It wasn't well-known that Sirius owned an enchanted motorcycle."

"Oh, I think I heard it from my Dad. With his job, you know, you get to know everybody else in the neighbourhood. Well, I guess his parent's never forgave him about leaving, and often swore he'd get himself killed on that flying motorcycle of his."

Kingsley smiled a sad smile, and seemed to lose himself in his thoughts for a moment. Coming to, he said, "Well, the motorcycle I was referring to used to belong to young Sirius Black. But he gave it to someone else a long, long time ago."

This surprised Daine. He'd never heard about what had happened to Sirius Black's motorcycle. What happened to possessions when someone was sent to Azkaban? Some things, like Hagrid's Hut, stood exactly the way they were, he supposed, but Black was never meant to leave. He wondered as to whom it was that Black had given the motorcycle to, but thought it prudent not to ask.

Daine was deep in thought, and hadn't noticed that Kingsley had walked over to his bike. When he came to, Kingsley was pointing his wand at the exhaust and muttering something. It appeared to have no effect. "Which part of this thing is the engine block?" he asked, slightly frustrated. Daine stifled a snort, and pointed it out to him. Kingsley crouched over it, and with the same incomprehensible muttering, and some fancy wand work, appeared to be casting a spell. He stood up a short time later, and smiled. "That should get you home a little faster," he winked. The two police officers were finally coming to, and Daine felt that it was time to part.

"Keep the light out. Use a super-sensory charm to keep track of things. Don't stop until you're home," Kingsley muttered quickly, "Here, leave now, I'll modify their memories. Farewell, Dainius. Stay safe."

Daine waved goodbye to Kingsley and kick-started his bike. It sounded just like it used to, but it felt completely different. He nudged the bike into gear with his toe. His feet went up, and he hesitantly spun the throttle, only a fraction, to gauge the response. When he let go, he was three blocks down.

"Oh. My. God." Daine gasped for breath in the middle of an intersection. He let off the brake, and felt himself idling forward at about 90 kilometers an hour. He could feel his heart beating in his ears, practically feel the adrenaline that was doubtlessly coursing through his veins. It was insane, but it was a thrill like no other. He wondered briefly at how hard it must have been for Sirius to give away that motorcycle, if _this_ was what he was giving up.

True to his word, he kept the headlamp off, and instead used a super-sensory charm to detect any motion. The streets were all empty. If they weren't, no one saw his passing. Daine stopped trying to see, stopped trying to hear, ignored all of his senses, and trusted in the power of the charm. It was the only way to navigate the thing anymore. Trying to rely on his senses would only slow him down. He made it to Twickenham, a part of Richmond, and his home, in record time. He didn't know how much time had passed, not having a watch, but it was well dark by the time he got to the drive. The lights were still on in the house. Daine shook his head, it couldn't have been much past 9 o'clock, so why did it feel so much later? He applied the brakes firmly to bring the bike to a manageable speed, and brought it up to the garage behind the flat where he lived with his parents. He pushed the door open, and cutting the engine, wheeled the motorcycle into its spot there. The garage was extraordinarily clean, not having had much of a purpose before the motorcycle had been purchased earlier in the day. He assumed his mother had been through to clear out the cobwebs, dust, and whatever remaining boxes were left in there for storage. He pulled the door back down, and sealed it magically. That motorcycle had had a pretty good workout, for its first night of usage.

Daine lived in a Muggle neighbourhood. It was easy to make their house appear completely normal from the outside, but slightly harder to avoid inviting the neighbours in. The house might appear normal from the outside, but to a Muggle, it was anything but on the inside. Still, the one advantage was that Muggle crime was easy enough to manage, and any magical crime wasn't likely to find its way into _this_ neighbourhood. The snobby well-to-do neighbours didn't seem to want to have much to do with them, anyway. No Porsche in the driveway, no maids, or servants doing the gardening. As far as they were concerned, Daine lived the hard life. Daine had always thought them silly rather than particularly obnoxious. They just didn't know any better.

He stepped in through the back door, and yelled a greeting to let his parents know that he was home. You could never be too careful these days, he thought, no point alarming them needlessly. He took off his shoes and set them by the door. He'd need them tomorrow. He groaned at the thought. He'd have to be up early tomorrow morning since he hadn't done any packing today. Before he could even so much as turn around, his parents were on him. His mother was simultaneous shaking him and hugging him. His father looked on with a slight smile, but Daine could see the worry and curiosity in his eyes.

"Jeez, Mom, could you let me get to the kitchen first?" He checked the clock. "I'm only an hour late. It's not the end of the world." And as soon as it had begun, it was over. His mother raised one eyebrow, and pointed to the hall leading to the kitchen.

"Don't give me that look," she said with a wry smile, "We agreed on 8:30. I don't care whether you're a minute late or a day, if you're not here when you said you'd be, anything could have happened."

Daine thought it fruitless to try and argue with her. She was right after all, more than she could possibly know thanks to Kingsley's information. Instead, he marched himself to the kitchen, dragged out a chair and sat down. He suddenly felt exhausted, the events of the last hour wearing on him deeply. He assured his parents that he would explain exactly why he had been late as soon as he got some cake. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he'd seen it there. Daine was already six feet tall, and done growing as far as he could tell, so he wasn't usually seized with sudden fits of hunger. Perhaps it was just his stomach reacting in anticipation for the feast tomorrow, he mused. Whenever anyone asked about how thin he was, he would jokingly reply that the only reason he even weighed as much as he did was because of the food at Hogwarts.

As he sat down, helping himself to the frosted cake that was on the counter, he recounted the day's events. First, he told them about his day in London with Jack: He had dropped him off, as per the plan, and continued on his way home. The Death Eater attack left them deeply worried, but his Dad had grinned when he told them about how he managed to fend off the two Death Eaters. Kingsley's tale, however, shocked them both. His Father had suspected that something was very rotten at the Ministry, but that it was under direct control by the Dark Lord himself… Well, that changed things very much. Hogwarts was still one of the safest places to be, and Daine knew that his parents would want him to go. In Scotland, it was far removed from the troubles of England and the Ministry.

He was warned very sternly about flouting the rules, however. More than ever, this was not the time for it, he was instructed, because the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself.

Daine sighed. "I know, guys. I'm not stupid enough to try and pull anything right under their noses. I'll leave that to the Gryffindors."

His father had laughed then. "So easy to manipulate, those Gryffindors," he mused.

Apparently they had a long history of being used. Daine just sighed and shook his head. Sometimes it was hard to believe that that man supplied half of his chromosomes. It was already 10 PM by the time he'd finished his tale.

Daine said goodnight to his parents, and flew up the stairs to his room. He collapsed into his bed and was unconscious before his head even hit the pillow.

* * *

That's the end of Chapter 1. Let me know what you think! I don't think the rest of the story will be quite this long, in terms of chapter length, but there was a lot to cover here. Reviews are much appreciated, of course. The chapter title and quote are fully attributed to the song by The Clash of the same name. I don't intend to claim it as my own by using it here. Chapter 2 to follow very soon.


	3. Going With the Flow

**Two: Going With the Flow**

**Summary: **In his 7th year at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw Dainius Kaminskas has his life turned upside down by a relic from the past: a journal of unimaginable importance that forever changes his life, and changes the rules of magic. While he struggles with the other students to carry on life as they knew it at a darker, more sinister, Snape-run Hogwarts, he must make decisions that will alter the course of the war, and the world. This story is completely independent of and compliant with Book Seven.

**  
Disclaimer: **Beyond the characters that I've invented here, and some of the plot elements, I really own nothing here. I make no claim to own anything that JKR created; I'm just playing in her sandbox for a while.

**Warnings: **It's rated M for a reason, kids, expect some violence, sexual situations, language, substance use/what have you. Also expect rainbows, bunnies, and plenty of awkward romance. Just because it's rated M, doesn't mean that everything has to be dark and depressing.

* * *

Daine slept through the night, exhausted. Far too soon (In Daine's mind anyway) the dawn came, and he was awake with it. He rolled over to with the intention of destroying his alarm clock with his newfound magical freedom, but thought better of it at the last minute. He groaned, and felt something hard and cold poking into his back. He rolled over and felt around to see what the hell it was, and his fingers grasped the metal.

Suddenly Daine was very awake. He pulled the gun away from his back immediately and held it out in front of him. _Thank Merlin the safety's on,_ Daine thought to himself as he checked. That Kingsley Shacklebolt thought of everything. He decided that he would have to get to packing, starting with hiding the gun. Its slightly worn silver finish glinted in the dawn, and the black grip was faded and rough. Daine eyed it curiously; the design etched into the silver of the barrel caught his eye. He didn't know what the design was, but he traced it with his finger for a while, until he heard his mother move downstairs. He hastily stowed it in his trunk before his parents could see it and begin asking questions. The previous night, Daine had conveniently left out the part where Kingsley had given him the gun. He didn't think his parents would appreciate him carrying a Muggle weapon at school, but it wasn't any different from carrying a wand, really. In fact, a wand had a far greater potential for damage.

The morning was spent in a frantic haze, with Daine rushing around the house, collecting all of the items he would need for the school year. He was routinely amazed at how far-flung some of them would be, and occasionally he would just summon them with his wand to save time. He tried to avoid this, however, after he nearly gave his mother a concussion summoning his brass scales from down the hall.

His trunk was packed, and his room nearly cleaned, when his mother stepped in and said, "Your dad's bringing a company vehicle out, so have your trunk by the door in 5 minutes." Daine waved her away, did some last minute mental checks, hastily packed a few items that had been left in drawers, and then managed to push his trunk closed with a great amount of effort. He put a trunk-closing spell down on his list of things to look up when he got to school.

Daine hastily laced his shoes, made a vague attempt at flattening his hair (There wasn't a chance), and levitated his trunk as he slowly moved downstairs. He still hadn't got the hang of the spell just yet, and it showed as the trunk banged into the wall every now and again as he brought it down the stairs. It still beat trying to drag it down, he thought.

He checked his watch, slightly scratched but in otherwise good condition. It was a traditional present for a wizard to receive a watch for his coming-of-age. His Grandfather, whom Daine had never known, but always wondered about, once owned the watch. It was the only thing he could trace his Lithuanian roots back to. No one knew what happened to his Grandfather his night, not his Dad, not his dead Grandmother. No one. He set such thoughts aside, and got moving, realizing that he was late. He stopped outside the kitchen and whispered "Accio!" and a piece of toast flew from the stack and into his hand. He summoned another one for good measure, and smiling, left the house with his trunk. He stepped out onto the small porch, and was faced with a wondrous sight.

A bottle green Aston Martin sat idling, rather noiselessly, by the curb. If not for the exhaust streaming from the twin tailpipes, Daine would have been sure the car was not running. It was… Immaculate. The car seemed to flow forth from the pavement, as though the lines between them were blurred. He was snapped out of his reverie by his smiling mother, "The Calvary has arrived. Try not to get yourselves killed on the way there, wont you?" Daine assured her that he would do his utmost to survive the journey to King's Cross, and she dropped her smile and stared at him, suddenly serious.

"Survive the whole year, Daine. Please. I don't care what the hell those Gryffindors are doing with that whole student militia thing- avoid it. We want you to come home alive this year, and I'm not taking any chances."

"Mom, I'm not going to die. I'm not going to give anyone the opportunity to kill me. Those dumbass Gryffindors can do what they like, so long as they're bothering Snape. That man could use it, bitter old bastard…" he trailed off, attempted a smile, and then hugged his mother.

"_Kristina _let's go here! We don't have all morning for you to say goodbye to the kid, come on!"

"With the way you'll be driving I'm sure time's not an issue here, _Jurgis,_" she replied dryly. He scowled at her through the open passenger door, but winked at Daine and then blew her a kiss. She rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded like "Hopeless romantic" to Daine. He grinned and kissed his mother goodbye, brushing the last crumbs from the toast onto the sidewalk below him.

The trunk opened as he stepped toward the car, and he was forced to heave the trunk in by hand, lest the neighbours see and things become very complicated indeed. He waved one final time to his mother before stepping into the dark interior of the car. The door closed, and he made sure to do up his seat belt immediately.

His father raised an eyebrow, "Thinking ahead, are we?" He grinned and flicked the shifter into first and tore away from the curb, the tires peeling. Daine realized that he was oh so very wrong. This car was anything but silent. The roar of the engine was muted inside the vehicle, but by the stares it was drawing from the passerby's on the sidewalk, he was sure that it was much, much louder. Daine didn't hear the power so much as feel it. It had nothing on his bike of course, but it was a lot more show. He could appreciate show.

His father turned to him, smiling, and struck up a conversation, his eyes never leaving Daine's face while he managed to navigate London traffic. It scared the hell out of Daine, and he spoke up "Dad, shouldn't you be watching-"

"Nonsense, I'm much better at this than you give me credit for-" Daine snorted- "I was thinking of buying one of these for us. It'd appease the neighbours, and I could certainly get used to going to work the Muggle way, if this is what it entails."

Daine nodded silently. It was a shame he was never home, he rather liked the heady feeling that came along with riding in the Aston Martin. He sighed in relief when his father turned his eyes back to the road, even though he trusted him and knew that he was only doing it to try and freak him out. _Well Dad, you win,_ Daine thought.

For the rest of the ride, Daine attempted to relax and enjoy the ride. Despite the way his father drove (rather recklessly to the inexperienced eye), it was easy for Daine to close his eyes and feel the car. Feel the way the tires gripped the road with even the hardest of turns his dad threw the car into, feel the way the engine flared to life every time he switched gears, the acceleration holding him fast against the plush leather seats.

Before he was even truly aware of drifting off, they were there, and Daine's father was calling his name. "Daine. _Daine. _Dainius Kaminskas, hello, head out of the clouds there, mate," he said, running his hand in front of Daine's vacant face. _That_ got Daine's attention. He wasn't particularly fond of his full name, and he scowled at his dad for using it jokingly. He looked out the window to realize that they were stopped, and let out a low whistle. They had got there in record time, and it was a Muggle vehicle.

"They really aren't as dumb as we think they are," laughed Daine as he took his trunk out of the car. Daine's father smiled back, but his face turned serious. "Daine, if you can be a wizard and live like a Muggle, you're as close to invincible as any mortal can be. Don't ever forget that. Many wizards and witches have underestimated Muggles before you. Sometimes magic can't always save you."

Daine reeled. Here he was making a joke about Muggles, and his father responds with some crazy life philosophy. _Bloody typical._ Still, he would think on it. His dad did have a point…

"Yeah, thanks Dad. I'll see you, okay?"

"Have a good year at school, Daine," he said, reaching across to hug him. "Oh, and Daine, one more thing: I know you and Draco were friends or whatever-" "Hardly," Daine interrupted.

"Whatever, if he's back this year, which I somehow doubt, stay away from him. You don't want to cross them with the way things are, and it's even more dangerous to be his friend. Just stay away, Daine"

"Don't need to tell me twice," Daine muttered. He and Draco had been somewhat friends as kids, as Daine's father was a close friend of Abraxas Malfoy (who had founded the company his father worked for) who had routinely had his grandson over when Daine's dad had brought him around as well. It was nice of the old man to at least look out for him, as there wasn't much else to do at the old Malfoy Manor.

Once school had started, they'd sort of drifted apart. Malfoy was not the same person around his friends, no question, but they'd at least managed to be civil at school. He had no reason to cross Draco Malfoy, and he had no reason to be friends with him, either. It was a position Daine liked to be in with most people: strategically neutral.

Daine's dad snapped him out of his reverie again, walking back to the car. "I've gotta get going. I'll see you at Christmas, Daine. Write us sometime soon, wont you?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you want. Have fun driving this thing around." Daine's dad flashed him a wide smile through the open window. "Don't tell your mother," he winked, and then he was gone, flying down the road at speeds far above the limit. Daine sighed, and stared after the car for the few seconds it took for it to disappear. He would have to find the platform now if he didn't want to be late.

Daine located a trolley and then proceeded to Platform 9 and ¾ without incident. It didn't bother him that his parents didn't come with him; they always said their goodbyes the night before, on his birthday, so he never really needed them around for the emotional moments that sometimes happened with other families. He already had plenty of that.

Daine didn't need any tearful goodbyes on the Platform, what he needed was to see his friends again. Jack he'd just seen yesterday, but he was looking forward to seeing Charlie again, maybe even William, and Tricia. His heart skipped a beat at the thought, but he ignored it entirely. To clear his mind, he searched about the Platform until he found what he was looking for: A hulk of a man standing next to his parents.

He began to push his trolley over with a smile. Charlie Duvall never was very hard to spot in a crowd. Most men who are well over six feet tall and weigh about sixteen stone generally aren't. If not for his hulking size, his straw-blond hair would make him easily identifiable amongst the dark-haired, and probably unwashed, masses. Daine pushed the trolley to the side and walked up to clap him on the back. If not for his lanky arms, he likely wouldn't have been able to reach.

"Charlie Duvall! Fancy spotting you here, in a crowd of hundreds," Daine grinned at him.

"The odds are astronomical, I'm sure," Charlie rolled his eyes. "Mom, Dad, you remember Daine, don't you?" And sure enough they did, and greetings were exchanged. They stood making pleasant conversation for a few minutes, as Charlie scanned the platform for another. And sure enough, something caught his eye and he strode off, the crowd easily parting for him. His parents stared after him, with a worried look shared between them.

Daine checked his watch, "If I'm not mistaken, he's off to teach Jack a lesson. Nearly time to leave, In'it, and you know how Charlie is about being late."

His parents both gave Daine a glance as if to say that they were the leading experts on Charlie's compulsion to be punctual for everything. Daine knew full well what Charlie was like, having to attend many of his classes with him. He was fine with skipping class, find with sneaking out of dorms, fine with breaking a whole host of rules, but if Charlie Duvall said he was going to be somewhere at a certain time, by god he would be there. _Huh, I guess even us Ravenclaw kids get different nerd-traits from their parents, _he thought.

Daine glanced up to see Charlie coming back, a satisfied smirk on his face, a pair of ankles in his hands. Sure enough, dangling upside down in front of him, coppery hair well above the floor, was Jack Clements. Jack wasn't exactly tall to begin with, at five foot, six inches, but in front of Charlie he looked he a child.

Charlie reached Daine and his parents, and stood there, dangling Jack above the ground. "Now," he said, shaking Jack up and down with each word. "What did I tell you about being late?"

Jack seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. "Well, if I do recall correct, you told me that being late wasn't an option. Train leaves at 11, and all, right?" and then his legs, which Charlie had previously been holding up by his head, wrapped around his neck, and Jack pulled himself up and around to sit on his shoulders. Daine was impressed; they were in far better shape than him, far better shape than they even let on about.

Charlie's parents laughed, seeing the diminutive Jack atop the shoulders of his best friend, playing drums on his head, never failed to make them smile. Daine smiled too, he had always felt safe around those two. Not only were they powerfully athletic, they had prowess with a wand, as well. In the troubled times that were sure to follow, there were no two people he wanted at his side more. He couldn't help but also smile for the endurance of their relationship. Jack and Charlie had been through _a lot_ together, and they were still the closest of friends, for nearly 4 years now. _It's nice to know that at least some relationships are genuine, these days,_ Daine thought.

Charlie set Jack down and then helped him load his trunk onto the Express. The muscles visible through Charlie's shirt made it quite clear that such a task proved easy for him. He laughed and said, "Do you want me to help you on the train too, Jackie?"

Jack glowered at the use of his first name. Yet another reason why Daine appreciated Jack so much: He could understand a guy who didn't care to use his full name in casual conversation. In fact, Jack and Daine had a lot in common, maybe less now than they did when they met, but all the same, it had resulted in a powerful friendship that had withstood the tests of time, drama, and no small portion of teenage angst.

"No, I think I can manage that one myself," he snapped and then rolled his eyes. Charlie grinned, "How about you then, Daine?" Daine wholeheartedly agreed with anyone who would help him move his trunk, and even Charlie had to put a bit more effort into it than usual when lifting the trunk up onto the train.

With their entire luggage stowed all that was left was to do was board the train. Jack and Daine got onto the train to find a compartment while Charlie said goodbye to his parents. Both of the boys new from experience that it wasn't something they wanted to witness. Charlie always tried to play himself off as gruff and serious, but his parents weren't having any of that. Because they were such good friends, they saved him the embarrassment.

They located an empty compartment, and Daine was bursting to tell Jack about the previous night, but he decided to wait until Charlie got there so that he wouldn't have to tell it twice. He wasn't holding out for William or Tricia, they'd find out soon enough. Charlie showed up a few minutes later, and the train began to slowly glide out of the station.

Before Daine could even say hello to any of them, Jack rolled his eyes and said, "Well, well Daine. By the manic gleam in your eyes, it sounds like you've got something you'd like to share." He received a hard elbow to the ribs from Daine, who was sitting next to him. Charlie just sat back and smiled. Daine lived a pretty boring life, but trouble had managed to work its way in there before, so Charlie figured this would have to be pretty good.

Daine took a deep breath and began relaying the events of the previous night. Conversation came to a grinding halt when the subject of the gun was brought up.

"Hang on, wait a minute," Jack began, "You're telling me that a bunch of Muggles on the street very nearly killed a Death Eater?"

"Yeah. That's what I saw. He had two or three of them going through his arm, and one through his fat chest too. The man was in bad condition, and the other one couldn't exactly heal him there on the spot, what with nine people shooting at him and such, they needed to make a fast escape."

Jack nearly gasped in surprise, but covered it up with a large intake of breath. Daine frowned inwardly. It was amazing how little regard most wizards gave toward muggles, Slytherin or not. _You're still human, guys. So are they, _he thought.

He carried on his story until he was interrupted once more over the gun. "So, the Auror just let you keep the gun?" Charlie seemed very curious about the idea of a Muggle weapon powerful enough to nearly kill a Death Eater.

"Uhm, yeah, he just gave it to me, told me you never know when you might need one, right. He obviously didn't need it, and he had to get rid of the evidence somehow."

"Huh," Charlie's curiosity seemed satisfied. "Well, when can we see it?"

Daine snorted, "Well certainly not here. It's packed securely away in my trunk for one thing, and for another, I don't think anyone would take to kindly to my taking out a weapon on the train, yeah?"

Charlie shrugged and motioned for Daine to continue with the story. Daine was about to begin when two figures appeared in front of the glass of the compartment door. Two figures, which in many regards, seemed to be exact opposites. Daine smiled, "I was wondering when you two would rear your ugly faces. Come on, have a sit, it's _story time._"

The boy grinned. He was about 6'2, with a dark complexion, probably Spanish, and smooth –almost too smooth- features. He had a strong jaw, just enough stubble, and a thin, slightly upturned nose. His black hair was cut close, barely touching his ears. By all regards, he was attractive, and with the stories about him, too many of which Daine had witnessed first hand, it was clear that almost any girl in Hogwarts could be charmed into thinking so as well.

Any girl except the one that was still standing by the compartment door. She was different. Tricia Jones was short by anyone's standards at 5'2, and her pale complexion left her even whiter than Daine, who, with Lithuanian skin, was nearly wintry in complexion. Her black hair was in a pixie cut, short and spiked.

Tricia was in her sixth year at Hogwarts, and like William, she was a Slytherin. A self-professed "lazy asshole", Tricia was possibly the magical equivalent of a genius. Daine found her captivating, the way she succeeded at everything in school without trying, the way she utterly rejected William, and every other guy, and of course the way she was constantly teasing him about not having a girlfriend, while simultaneously turning away boys left and right. If anyone got shirty, well, she could be mean with a wand, Tricia.

Being single was a bit of a sore spot with Daine. Jack was gay, Charlie dated Cho Chang last year, and William never seemed to be without some clingy female companion. Daine was sure that he had dated nearly every eligible girl in the school, and there were many, in Slytherin and beyond. Daine wasn't really jealous of him, because 1) Tricia had turned him down and 2) He seemed to go through a girl a week. That wasn't how Daine really wanted his relationships to be, but he still felt sometimes that it might be better than being single. William sure seemed to think so, anyway.

"Well are you just going to stand there the whole ride? Come sit down," Daine suggested.

"Yeah, come sit down on his lap. Old Daine would certainly like that idea," William grinned sitting across from him. Daine was sorely tempted to hex him, but Charlie got there first, delivering a hammer blow to his shoulder.

William howled and then hissed, "What the bloody hell was that for?" He clutched his shoulder and moved it slowly, testing it. He winced at the results and decided to leave it alone for the time being.

Charlie didn't even bother to answer, because Tricia spoke up immediately "I'm the only one allowed to tease Daine," she said with a sly smile.

William looked sulky but remained silent. "You mentioned something about story time," Tricia grinned.

Daine smiled, "You'll have to catch up. Anyway, so it gets worse. I'm talking to the Auror afterward, and it looks like everyone was right. The Ministry's fallen and You-Know-Who has taken over."

It didn't come as much of a surprise to anyone, but the reaction throughout the compartment was still the same: Fear, anger, insecurity, helplessness.

"Huh, thought you two'd be jumping for joy," Jack said bitterly.

"Funnily enough we're not. Honestly, what sort of sympathizers would hang around with _Ravenclaws _all their lives? Get a brain, Jackie," William snapped. "And anyway, you know the deal. Tricia hates fascist men too much to ever join the Death Eaters, and everyone hates me far too much to ever invite me to that little exclusive club, so here we are."

"Well what were you two out doing before you got here, half way through the journey?" Jack questioned. He wasn't truly suspicious, Daine knew that he just harbored a bit of hostility toward William, who had previously used his homosexuality as a frequent cause for insult.

"We were out doing what any true Slytherins would be doing," William said, ignoring the bait. "We were gathering intelligence."

"Merlin knows you could do with some more," Charlie laughed.

"Oh yes, very funny. Anyway, it might interest you to know that a few of our esteemed colleagues are missing today."

The compartment went quite. William did not need prompting. "Upon further investigation, it appears that Crabbe and Goyle are dining alone this year," he spouted with mock sadness, grinning wickedly.

"Big surprise there," Daine sighed. He hadn't expected Malfoy to hang around; with the way things were at the moment.

"It was to the rest of us," Charlie said, surprised at Daine's reaction. "I suppose his whole family got tossed in with You Know Who, but I still couldn't see him leaving."

"Oh, honestly," William drawled, "With the way that mother of his is it's a miracle he managed to get out of here. Always writing to check in on his progress, always sending packages. Right lunatic she is, I'd be happy to get shot of her too."

"He wasn't the only absence, though. It seems The Golden Trio has done a bunk at last," Tricia smiled. "And this one really wouldn't be a surprise if you'd read the Prophet today," she added, seeing their shocked expressions. She pulled a piece of paper out of one of her pockets, and unfolded it, smoothing it out with her hands.

The group stared over it, and the Ravenclaw students collectively groaned. It was a short article indicating that Severus Snape had taken over the position of Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

William was laughing to himself when Charlie shot him a glare. "Well he hates me too," he added hastily. "Just slightly less than the rest of you."

The train ride carried on with the compartment discussing the news. Where had Potter, Granger, and Weasley gone? What did this mean for the DA? What hope in hell did they have of defeating Voldemort? Why would Draco leave, and how would Snape make life hell for them at Hogwarts? Some questions they'd find out the answers to all too soon, others would not be revealed until the end. One thing was clear, though: Snape or no, Daine still firmly believed in the power of people to make an ordinary life out of a horrible situation, and he'd be trying his damnedest to do just that.

* * *

That concludes Chapter 2, except the next one shortly! Any and all feedback would be lurvly, of course.


	4. Going Back

**Three: Going Back**

**Summary: **In his 7th year at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw Dainius Kaminskas has his life turned upside down by a relic from the past: a journal of unimaginable importance that forever changes his life, and changes the rules of magic. While he struggles with the other students to carry on life as they knew it at a darker, more sinister, Snape-run Hogwarts, he must make decisions that will alter the course of the war, and the world. This story is completely independent of and compliant with Book Seven.

**  
Disclaimer: **Beyond the characters that I've invented here, and some of the plot elements, I really own nothing here. I make no claim to own anything that JKR created; I'm just playing in her sandbox for a while.

**Warnings: **It's rated M for a reason, kids, expect some violence, sexual situations, language, substance use/what have you. Also expect rainbows, bunnies, and plenty of awkward romance. Just because it's rated M, doesn't mean that everything has to be dark and depressing.

Daine stepped off of the Express in muted conversation with Jack. "Well, Draco's still here, and the Trio fucked off, I guess I've had worse news," he muttered.

"Yeah, like the fact that dear old Snape's taking over Dumbledore's spot," Jack reminded him, unable to keep the acid out of his voice.

"Yeah, I know. But it might not be so bad, right?" Jack snorted but didn't interrupt. "He hates the Gryffindors more than everyone, yeah? And that DA thing, that'll give us plenty of cover, if they keep running it without Potter and his friends, that is. Really, come to think of it, he'll probably be so busy with the Gryffindors, we'll be able to get away with even more. One of these days I'm going to thank those stupid gits for inadvertently running cover for us all the time."

"Not likely," Jack laughed, and Daine shrugged. He supposed that Jack had a point. They stopped and waited for the other three to get off the train, having previously been separated by the torrent of students itching to leave the train after the long journey. Charlie easily parted the crowd, and William and Tricia followed behind him.

They all stepped into the nearest carriage together, and slowly made their way up the magnificent castle, which glowed under the moon. Daine looked out the window of the carriage at it, the battlements, nearly ablaze in the white light of the moon. Daine didn't care what was going on in the outside world, he didn't even care what was going on at school; damn it was good to be back. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He didn't know it, but all of his friends were staring at him curiously.

"Daine, what's up?" Jack asked, a hint of concern running through his voice.

Daine looked up, surprised, "Oh, nothing, just happy to be back."

Jack nodded, "Me too, mate, me too."

The rest of the ride progressed in silence. Everyone was lost in their own memories of the school, which soon loomed before them in the darkness, its stone walls shining brightly.

The group stepped out of the carriage, and they parted ways. The Ravenclaws went to join their housemates while the Slytherins went to sulk just beyond their own. Tricia was occasionally friends with some of the girls in her house (It depended on her mood at the time), so it was only for William's sake that she did not go join them. Despite easily being a genius-level witch, and quite beautiful (Or at least Daine thought, and judging by the number of other boys that had tried to date her, he wasn't too far off the mark), Tricia had some weird things about her. She didn't like other people, to the point where she wouldn't associate with most of them. In fact, it was only once in a blue moon that she found it in herself to "go be vapid" with the other girls her age. But she did, proving that she couldn't stamp out the 16-year-old girl inside forever. Daine still didn't know why she had chosen him and Charlie and Jack to be her friends, but it probably helped that William had been friends with Charlie since before they began attending Hogwarts.

The Great Hall was a mass of floating candles and empty plates, bowls, and goblets. It's noisy occupants were all eagerly awaiting the feast that was to come. As Daine surveyed the room, he felt a strange sensation in him. _So this is what evil looks like?_ Hogwarts didn't seem any different than last year, it didn't look any different, anyway, but Dumbledore was dead, and he would bet almost anything that the man now sitting in his place was somehow involved in his death.

Severus Snape now sat in the Headmaster's spot at the very center of the table. Dressed from head to toe in his usual stunning black, his long dark hair, which shimmered oddly in the light (Probably from the grease, thought Daine), was draped over his sallow face. He seemed positively sunken, a waxen horror. Professor Snape didn't look good on the best of days, but he looked a mess tonight, Daine concluded. Had the pressure of being Headmaster already taken hold?

More like some pressure from his dark master, Daine figured grimly. But suddenly he saw the way that McGonagall was looking at Snape, a cold fire in her eyes, her lips pursed white. And then he thought, perhaps even the school was putting pressure on him. In fact, the more he looked, the more it seemed like the staff was displeased with the situation. None of them seemed to be smiling, and only a few were talking quietly amongst themselves, more hushed conversation than the usual banter. Even Hagrid wore a dark scowl as he sat behind the table, his huge oversize frame in startling relief to those around him.

Daine noticed two people at the table that he had not seen before. They both seemed particularly displeased, but Daine didn't think it was for the same reasons as the rest of the staff.

They seemed to be vaguely related, both hideous. The woman had stringy thin black hair that hung limply from her skull. Her face was a smooth and almost sickly-yellow colour. She was rather round, quite dumpy looking. She had a long and pointed nose, which cast out above her wicked scowl.

The man sitting next to her was no better. His hair was almost the same length, if fuller, and streaked with grey. His teeth were rotten and crooked, a few sticking out as he sat at the table and frowned. He seemed thin and haggard, his skin lumpy and uneven.

Many of the students seemed to be wondering the same thing as Daine. Who the hell were these two?

"Theories?" Daine muttered to Jack, as his friend eyed the two furtively. He didn't seem to like them anymore than Daine did. The general atmosphere of the Great Hall appeared to be in accordance with the way they were feeling.

Jack paused a moment and then replied, "I don't even know. There's only one vacant spot, isn't there? Maybe they're splitting DADA between two teachers, like Divination?"

Charlie snorted at the thought. "There's no reason Snape would make things any more difficult than they already are. In fact, I haven't seen Firenze here anywhere, d'you think he's kicked him out already?"

"No," said Daine quietly. "They wouldn't be able to remove him without a fight. We would have heard about it if they tried anything."

Jack nodded in agreement, and all three heads returned to the front as the Great Hall began to quiet. Professor McGonagall had a wooden three-legged stool in one hand and a patched old hat in the other.

The Sorting Hat's mouth tore open once more, and it began to sing.

"_These dark times are upon us- but there is much still to be done!"_

Daine was already beginning to drift off; he never paid much attention to the hat since he didn't believe in the principles of sorting, his friends were a clear indication of that. Just as he was starting to zone out, however, one of the two uglies (as he now referred to them in his head) stood up abruptly and muttered a spell harshly at the hat. The seam that was its mouth magically closed, and the hat returned, inert, to the stool.

Nervous chatter had broken out across the hall. No one had ever seen the Sorting Hat silenced before, and by the looks on the faces of the staff, neither had they. McGonagall was glaring daggers at the couple this time, momentarily redirecting her ire that had previously been intent upon breaking Snape.

The two seemed unruffled by McGonagall staring death at them, in fact the male replied with a bit of a cheeky grin. McGonagall's gaze flicked briefly between him and Snape, as though she was checking to make sure that his eyes were on him so that she couldn't just kill him while he wasn't looking. It happened so fast no one seemed to notice.

She stood up and held out a scroll in her hands, and the sorting began. If not for the way her hands gripped the parchment so tightly that her knuckles were white, it would have seemed just as it always did. Daine was lost in thought over the whole Sorting Hat debacle from 'Avery, Blake' to 'Whitgreen, Ashlyn', but when it ended he once more refocused his quite limited attention span on the front of the hall. His friends all sat expectantly as well. And inevitably, Severus Snape stood up to make the inaugural welcoming speech that had always been delivered by Albus Dumbledore.

The students in the hall sat expectantly, making no noise. But there was no welcome. Snape was still Snape, headmaster or no, and he skipped the preamble to launch right into the meat of it.

"As students of this school, you have the privilege of receiving some of the best magical education offered in the world. As such, this institute expects things back. Students will not be found out of bed after dinner hours except with the written permission of a staff member."

The faces of many of the students turned disgruntled at this, but the Great Hall remained silent.

"Also, in accordance with the uncertain times we live in," Snape continued, his upper lip twitching, "Further security measures will be placed on the school grounds for the safety of its inhabitants. No student is to leave the school, on the weekend or otherwise, without parental permission confirmed by a staff member. Mail, packages, and Floo Network usage will all be monitored."

None of this came as any surprise to Daine. He saw through the words: they wanted to keep the mudbloods out, and the blood traitors where they can be spied on and blackmailed. It was all too typical of fascists; they stop at nothing short of absolute control. The great thing about that, Daine knew, was that as long as the illusion of control was maintained, anything could happen unnoticed. He planned to fully take advantage of this flaw in the system. He was already imagining useful purposes for the DA when Snape continued.

"If anyone is caught breaking these rules, or any of the previously enforced rules, punishment will be swift and merciless. Staff members have the power to use any manner of magical punishment they see fit, and it is your responsibility, not theirs, to avoid being hurt. If you would like to keep those precious limbs, you will obey these rules," Snape concluded, smiling ominously.

Daine ran a hand through his hair. By the way the two uglies were grinning, it didn't sound too fucking great at all. But this still didn't change anything for them. They would just have to be more careful. Higher stakes meant a higher payoff, after all.

"Several changes are being made to our educational system this year. Firstly, two classes will be made mandatory, Muggle Studies, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. They will be taught by Amycus and Alecto Carrow respectively. These classes are both important to your educational well being, and thus they have been made mandatory. Anyone with scheduling conflicts should see their head of house to resolve the issues. Spots dropped by students that are not returning this year may free up additional classes as well. That is all. Please return quietly to the feast."

Everyone returned to the feast, but there was nothing quiet about it, and Snape began to scowl as he resumed his seat in the middle of the staff table. Students were speculating wildly: Who were the Carrows? Why was Muggle Studies mandatory? Would the Hogsmeade trips be stopped? Quidditch cancelled? Daine could hear the whispers through the Great Hall, the fear and curiosity permeating the voices.

He turned to Jack and Charlie. They looked worried. In truth, Daine was worried too. The mandatory classes did not sound good at all. But it was his job to reassure them, to be the voice of reason.

"So what are you guys thinking?"

"I think we're pretty much fucked," Jack sighed.

Daine smiled slightly and turned to Charlie, his smile fading when he saw that he was in accordance with Jack.

"Really, this doesn't change anything. The DA isn't about to stop their shit, I'll guarantee you that, and neither are we. With them running cover for us, all we'll have to do is be a bit more careful about not getting caught. Have some escape strategies, right? I'll talk to one of the Weasley bunch to see if there are any secret passages we don't know about. With the way those twins were, there's bound to be some. We just have to be better prepared than Snape and his lot if anything goes wrong."

"I'll do it for you," Charlie cut in hastily, adding "That Ginny Weasley sure is a looker."

Daine raised his hands in defeat. "Whatever dude, your dignity." He began loading his plate full of the food that had magically appeared in front of him. Jack was already eating in silence, studiously distancing himself from their conversation. He knew that they were fine with him being gay, but he never quite felt comfortable talking about girls with them, considering how he felt rather… _differently_ about them.

"Oh please, just because you're all for Trish, doesn't mean that every other girl in this school is an ugly whore," Charlie grinned.

Daine felt his face going slightly red. "No, I don't. She's out of bounds. And anyway-" he hastily changed the subject, "I thought you had sworn off girls for the time being?"

Charlie's grin widened, "I only swore off Ravenclaw girls, actually."

Daine's scowl turned into a mock-frown, "Awww, Cho Chang got you down? Poor Charles dated a whore and didn't realize it even though all of his friends told him so all along-" Daine's tirade was cut off by the appearance of Charlie's wand below his jaw. Daine swatted it away contemptuously. "Hate to say I told you so, mate, but I did. She was nothing but trouble, that one. Diggory found out, Potter found, Michael found out, you found out, and then Davies' _face_ found out when you caught him with her."

Jack laughed, "Poor bastard. I don't think that nose of his will ever be the same again, magical healing or no."

"T'was the least he could've done, considering the situation. She wasn't tying his shoes when Charlie showed up, you know."

"_ENOUGH_," bellowed Charlie, loud enough to scare some of the other members of their house seated further down the bench. "I do _not_ want to talk about this," he growled. "That was a giant fuck-around, yes, but that's what happens when you're dating god damned Cho Chang, _I KNOW._ So just lay off already before I break _your_ nose, Daine."

Daine just returned to his food without a word. Charlie scowled and dug into his mashed potatoes so hard that his fork clanged and ricocheted off of the plate below. His scowl deepened and he continued filling his plate.

After a long moment of silence, Charlie said, "I didn't know she was like that, okay? Well, I did, maybe I did, but I didn't want to admit it to myself. I thought she felt different, alright? She sure seemed to treat me a damn sight better than she did Potter. And her and Davies were supposed to be through. She never talked about him, how the fuck was _I_ supposed to know she was shagging him on the side?"

Jack just clapped him on the shoulder. It looked oddly funny since he had to reach up to do so, but his words were kind: "Don't worry about it Charlie. We all thought she was a whore, but none of us ever thought she'd do that to you, either. We had your back man, if any of us had known, we would have told you."

Charlie sighed. "Yeah, I know. Thanks. She was lucky that all I did was break up with her," Charlie trailed off, frowning. "Why is it that the hotter they are, the more of a bitch they get to be?"

His question went unanswered. Jack looked away, and Daine felt like protesting loudly that Tricia Jones was perfectly gorgeous and… _less _of a bitch than most girls. But he didn't feel this would help his cause at all, given the previous conversation. Really, she wasn't a bitch at all. Tricia just had a lot of _Slytherin_ tendencies, that was all. And she rarely unleashed them on her friends. Except, of course, when she felt they deserved it.

They ate in silence for a bit before Jack smiled and said, "So, how many galleons would it take to get you in a broom cupboard with one of those Carrows, Daine?"

They all laughed and Daine began naming off ridiculous sums of money, followed by further outrageous demands. Conversation quickly shifted gears to more light discussion. Daine drifted off as his thoughts and gaze turned to the pixie of a girl sitting down at the Slytherin table. He watched her at the end of the table, ignoring the rest of her house besides William, who she was sitting across from. Daine just sat there and watched her and wished…

Terry Boot, who he'd been sitting next to, saw him staring off across the Great Hall and followed his gaze to the Slytherin table. His nose wrinkled in disgust "You're not busy mooning over Parkinson, are you?"

Daine snorted so loudly that others at the table looked at him to make sure that something he'd eaten hadn't tried to force its way out of one of his nostrils. He took a deep breath, assuring them all that he was fine, and then rounded on Terry. "How _dare_ you insult my honour by suggesting I'd be lusting over that- that _thing!_ The very thought-" Daine shuddered impulsively.

Terry looked apologetic. "So you were looking at… Jones? Oh, Jesus, Daine, come on mate. One, she doesn't date anyone. Two, she's like, your closest female friend, how awkward would that be? Three, haven't I mentioned how out of your league she is?"

"Oh, sod off man. I'm not _that_ far off the mark."

"Oh yeah? Wotshisface Cervantes over there wasn't that far off the mark, and she's been shooting him down for years. That dago's slept with almost every bloody girl in the school, and a whole lot more _not_ in the school from the things I've heard, so why's she not take him?"

Daine just sighed. He didn't feel like explaining Tricia's stance on men to Terry right this moment. He was getting rather tired, actually. "Just quit taking the piss out of her, and William, and me, will you?"

Terry just shrugged.

"Oh," Daine said, pointing a finger at Terry, "And don't you dare try and place me with that pug-faced trollop. That's not even funny, it's just cruel."

"She's not _that_ bad, maybe if you put a bag over her head or something…"

Now it was Daine's turn to shrug. "I have better taste than that."

"Agreed. Plus, can you imagine the way she must squeal in the sack? Good lord…"

"Yeah, I can now, but I'd rather not, thanks." The feast was finally ending, and Daine managed to at least temporarily escape Terry as he floated off into the crowds of people heading toward the west end to Ravenclaw tower. He took several moving staircases up to the fifth floor until he, along with his housemates, approached the tightly wound staircase that would lead them up to the Common Room. He managed to get there with the first group, the brass eagle on the wall just posing its question.

"Is the glass half empty or half full?" It asked them. They fell silent for a moment, each to their own thoughts. It was a familiar voice that spoke first, and Daine recognized it as Jack came up beside him.

"If the glass is full and I take a drink from it, it's half empty. If the glass is empty and I fill it half way, it's half full."

"Well reasoned," the knocker agreed, and it swung forth to admit them to their common room.

Daine stepped forward, breathing in deeply. The smell of the Common Room was familiar. The air seemed… thinner, cooler, up here. The midnight blue carpet, with its white stars, soft under Daine's sneakers, was also a familiar sensation. He gazed around, and it was exactly the way he remembered it: The room was wide, circular, and very airy, with a domed ceiling painted with stars, and walls with graceful arched windows that provided quite a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. There were bookcases, tables, and chairs, and opposite the entrance was another door leading to the dormitories. Beside the door was the same statue, the replica of Rowena Ravenclaw wearing her diadem, the white marble smooth and glossy.

Daine didn't even bother stopping in the Common Room. He knew everyone else would want to meet with their friends, play some games, probably find a case or two of butterbeer. It was not for him. Daine and his friends, ever since fourth year, had decided to play their own game. For the last three years they had gone to bed as soon as the feast ended, and then snuck out the next night and celebrated on the grounds on their own. It had worked so well the first time that they had decided to make it tradition. They _were_ still Ravenclaw's, however, so partying both nights was not an option. They needed to get advanced sleep on the first night to make up for the lack of sleep that came with the second night. That way, none of their teachers would suspect them of having broken a wide variety of rules on their second night back.

He found his four-poster to be much the same way he remembered it: soft and inviting. His trunk was already there, and he was busy fishing pajamas out of the mess that was his packing when Charlie and Jack came into the dormitory as well.

"Well, let's see it then." Charlie stood beside Daine's trunk, Jack looking on behind him, less daring.

"See what?"

"The gun, you muppet!"

"Oh, right." Daine dug through his trunk until he found the gleaming silver of the barrel, with its black etched patterns. He pulled it out, made sure the safety was on, and held it flat in his palm. Jack and Charlie examined it carefully, but both were very hesitant to touch. It was something that was completely foreign to them, and quite dangerous, so they wisely stayed away.

"How do you use it?" Jack asked, after looking at it for a long while.

"Simple. Just hold it like this-" Jack flipped the gun out of his palm and wrapped his fingers around the grip. "And pull the trigger. I can't, because the safety's on, which prevents people from accidentally firing it, say if it's in their trousers or something."

"Brilliant." Jack whispered.

"Yeah, pretty nice. Don't think I'll have much use for it, but you never know, I suppose."

The boys agreed, and then went off to their own beds to get changed.

"So are we good for tomorrow night?" Daine asked Charlie.

Charlie looked up as he was climbing into bed, with a yawn he said, "Yeah, should be fine. I've gotta talk to William about getting some firewhiskey. He mentioned something about going to Hogsmeade tomorrow night, so I suppose if we run cover for him, he can bring back some for us."

"Mmm." Daine approved.

"Night boys," Jack barked from behind his curtains. Daine could hear the grin in his voice. "Best be sleeping now, since we won't be doing much of it tomorrow!"

Sorry it's taken a while to get this chapter out, but I had massive writer's block for a number of these scenes, especially Snape's speech, which was very hard to do. Once I got past those, it was basically smooth sailing. I know that so far the timeline has been one day after the other so far. Don't expect it. The timeline will start to jump forward quite a bit after the next chapter.


	5. Welcome Home

**Four: Welcome Home**

**Summary: **In his 7th year at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw Dainius Kaminskas has his life turned upside down by a relic from the past: a journal of unimaginable importance that forever changes his life, and changes the rules of magic. While he struggles with the other students to carry on life as they knew it at a darker, more sinister, Snape-run Hogwarts, he must make decisions that will alter the course of the war, and the world. This story is completely independent of and compliant with Book Seven.

**  
Disclaimer: **Beyond the characters that I've invented here, and some of the plot elements, I really own nothing here. I make no claim to own anything that JKR created; I'm just playing in her sandbox for a while.

**Warnings: **It's rated M for a reason, kids, expect some violence, sexual situations, language, substance use/what have you. Also expect rainbows, bunnies, and plenty of awkward romance. Just because it's rated M, doesn't mean that everything has to be dark and depressing.

A/N: Going to try and update this more frequently. Knowing my luck, I'll just start getting to the good part when school will begin. But we'll see.

Daine woke up far before the rest of us his house, as was usual when he also went to bed hours before them. He managed to sleep in a little (9 hours was definitely sleeping in for him), so it was only 6:30 AM when he awoke. The sun was just beginning to reach over the horizon, and so very little light was reaching through the curtains in the dormitory. Charlie and Jack were still sleeping, but of course they would be up soon enough. With Quidditch for most of the year, neither of them grew too used to sleeping in.

Daine got up and headed for the showers. The great thing about waking up before the rest of humanity was that he was free to take as long a shower as he liked. He let the hot water scald his skin until he lost track of time. Showers were always great for thinking about things, especially today, being the first day of classes.

Daine wondered about his schedule. When they had planned their schedules last year, they had hoped to have as many classes together as they could, but sometimes that just wasn't possible. For example, Daine was possibly the only one of his friends still taking potions, besides Tricia. But since she was a year below him, there was no chance they would have the class together.

Daine didn't necessarily need potions, but unlike his friends, he thoroughly enjoyed Slughorn's class, and he thought that it couldn't hurt to have the skills involved. Potions could be _very_ handy things; you never know when you might need one. Best learn how to brew as many as possible while at school. Perhaps Charlie would still take it. He knew that Jack wouldn't, though, because he was rubbish at it.

He wasn't sure what the rest of his classes would be like, though. He was at least guaranteed to have Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts with Charlie and Jack, since they were both now mandatory. He contented himself with this as he stepped out of the shower, towel around his waist.

People were just beginning to wake up now. Daine stepped back into the dormitory, lost in thought about the day ahead. He got dressed, and strode down into the Common Room, feeling oddly glad to be back in his robes for the first time this year.

While he waited for Charlie and Jack to come down, Padma Patil sat down in a nearby chair and began talking to him.

"Hi, Daine! So how was your summer? I heard that you go into a row with some Death Eaters, that can't be true, can it? Did you get much work done? What do your parents do again? I don't think you've ever told me…"

Daine wanted to tune her out, but he answered the senseless barrage of questions anyway.

"My summer was good besides the last day, yeah I was very nearly killed, no, I didn't get much work done, it's the summer, I never do, and my dad works for Abraxas Holdings, my mum runs an art shop in West London."

Padma clapped her hands, surprised to get any information out of Daine. She figured that if perhaps she ambushed him while he was just out of bed, he might not have his guard up. She didn't know that he'd just stopped caring and decided to give in.

"So what exactly does... Abraxas did you say? What do they do?"

Daine sighed. Charlie and Jack still hadn't shown up so he decided to explain it to her. "It's kind of complicated… And not really legit. They manipulate the Muggle economies from behind the scenes. I guess he makes a lot of money, but there's quite a few people involved, and it's all Muggle money too, so it's hard to get it switched over."

Padma's eyes narrowed. "That sounds very… Slytherin."

"It's actually named for Malfoy's grandfather," he said with a grin, seeing her shocked expression. "He's the one that started it. It's changed since then, though."

"Oh really?" She seemed doubtful. _Great, some random girl thinks my dad makes money through illegitimate means. What do I care?_

But he found himself defending it anyway. "Yeah. You probably haven't heard about it, but over the last few years… The Muggle world hasn't been doing too well. When they get themselves into trouble, well, we're the ones who get them out."

She let out a surprised little "Oh!"

Daine continued on as though he hadn't heard her, "This year it looks like they'll be busy with the Asian markets. Can't be too obvious, see? If things all went to hell and then just magically got better again, people would start asking questions. But they definitely speed things up."

Padma was nodding, though Daine wasn't sure how much of this she was grasping. He was spared any further explanation by the entrance of Jack and Charlie. Padma tried to begin interviewing the two of them, but they were locked in conversation over Quidditch, and so ignored her utterly. Daine gave Padma a meaningful look and then got up to follow them.

They strode forth out into the Corridor, and then began to talk of the prospects for the team. Charlie had been made Captain, taking over Cho Chang's position last year.

Jack was a little disappointed that Charlie was chosen over him. "I was hoping to get Captain. Figured they'd pick someone who's organized, a natural-born leader-"

But Charlie cut him off, laughing and said, "Jack, you don't have the _balls_ to run a Quidditch team. Look at Oliver Wood. Gryffindor though he may have been, that man knew how to captain. Hell of a lot better than fucking _Chang_ did, anyway"

Terry Boot came up out of some side passage, and, spotting Charlie, ran up to also join them. He began talking about Ravenclaw's chances of winning the cup.

Daine rolled his eyes and dropped back to walk at his own pace. He didn't really have much interest in Quidditch, unlike his friends, so when they got like this he tended to avoid them. Usually he had Tricia, or at the very least William, to talk to, but being in different houses made that a pain sometimes.

He walked slowly down to the Great Hall, lost in thought and not in any particular hurry. There was still plenty of time left before classes started, and he wasn't feeling that hungry (It would hit him as soon as he stepped into the Great Hall), so he took his time.

He meandered down the stairs by himself, until whom should he be stuck next to on a moving staircase but Neville Longbottom. Neville glanced over and noticing him, said shyly "Hi."

"Longbottom," Daine nodded in reply. He wasn't Neville's biggest fan. He didn't particularly dislike him, but from what he had heard, disaster seemed to strike wherever he was. Daine edged away from him furtively, and then shook his head at the stupidity of it. The staircase wasn't going to drop them into oblivion just because Neville Longbottom happened to be on it with him. The way Tricia and William made him out, though, you would think that was exactly what was going to happen.

_I suppose one can't always avoid house prejudices._

Daine suddenly got a brainwave. "I'm in your year. I don't think we've had any classes together, but a few of my friends were in that DA thing with you. Terry Boot? He's still here, but Corner and Goldstein didn't end up coming back."

Neville nodded, thankful that Daine had chosen to make conversation about a topic he was versed in.

"You're not interested in joining, are you?"

"Ah, no. I'll leave that to Warhearts such as yourself and Terry. But listen, what's going to happen to it without Potter here? I know last year Terry kept checking that coin of his all the time, but he never got anything until that catastrophe a few months ago."

Neville leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm thinking of starting it up again. But I dunno. I'm not really much of a leader, but I'll see. Tell Terry to talk to me if he's interested."

Daine promised to relay the message and stepped off of the staircase. He was walking toward the Ravenclaw table when he saw Luna Lovegood coming from one of the other entrances. He changed his path to come up beside her.

"Hey Luna!" She smiled at him as he began to walk with her, once more heading toward the Ravenclaw table. He saw Charlie, Jack, and Terry were already there, but from the expressions on their faces, it appeared they were still deeply engrossed in Quidditch talk. He decided to engage Luna instead.

"Hello Dainius," she said as they sat down across from each other at the table. Daine began to load food onto his plate, hash browns, sausage, and scrambled eggs. Luna was the only person he didn't mind referring to him as Dainius. All his other friends only did it mockingly, but Luna was always serious, so he was fine with it.

There was no one on earth quite like Luna Lovegood. His friends couldn't stand her, but Daine found her presence oddly calming. Luna was great when you needed to talk about something completely irrelevant, if you wanted to get away from the gossip, the lies, and the drama. If you just wanted to _talk_, then you went to Luna Lovegood. And so, with all of his friends busy arguing with each other over Quidditch, something delightfully irrelevant seemed to be perfectly in order.

"So how was your summer?" he asked, beginning to eat. Luna took a bite of a piece of toast, and sat there, in silence, thinking. Daine was about to ask again, when she said, "Oh, it was good. I went on another expedition with my dad. To New Zealand this time."

Of course Luna's expeditions were famous amongst the Ravenclaws, mostly because of how easy they were for everyone else to ridicule. Daine would never admit it to his friends, but he figured it would probably be a lot of fun going on one of those expeditions, even if he knew that what they were looking for didn't exist.

A smile played across his face. "What were you looking for this time?"

"Shrieking Skylarks." She replied, clearly excited to be talking to someone who seemed to be showing marginal interest in her beliefs.

"I take the 'Shrieking' bit is what separates them from normal skylarks, then?" Daine grinned.

"Oh yes," she said. "They're very, very noisy creatures. Daddy heard one once and his nose began to bleed afterward. It's a clear sign."

Daine smiled at her and said, "That's great! Did you manage to see any while you were there?"

She shook her head and sighed a wistful sigh. Daine supposed that she didn't expect to see anything anymore, but really, with a free trip to New Zealand, he doubted that he would be complaining either.

Luna continued outlining some of the details of her trip while Daine ate. Finally, when Professor Flitwick came around to hand out their schedules, Daine excused himself to go sit with his friends.

"Goodbye Dainius," she said in that mysterious, airy voice. Daine just smiled at her and went to sit down the table with the others. Of course they were still talking Quidditch when he got there.

"Malfoy's been made Captain, but he's probably going to be otherwise preoccupied, if you catch my drift, so I don't know whether Slytherin will be such a threat anymore."

"Gryffindor?"

"That Weasley girl is the captain now. She's good but she's not Potter. This could be our year, boys!"

"And here's Daine to ruin the fun parade," Terry smirked.

"Shut the hell up," Daine said, but he was smiling.

"Schedule comparison time," said Jack, lifting his up to have a look at it. Daine did the same, and his read as follows:

Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Muggle Studies, Potions, Transfiguration.

Daine noted glumly that Divination had been dropped and replaced with Muggle Studies. _Well, at least I get to take that one with my friends, anyway. Damn mandatory classes. _

He looked at his schedule for the day. Double Muggle studies first thing, then double Arithmancy, Charms, and then a free period before dinner. Didn't sound too bad at all, when it came down to it.

"Double Arithmancy," Jack winced, glancing over Daine's shoulder. None of Daine's friends had decided to continue on with Arithmancy past their O..

Daine shrugged, "It's complicated as hell, and it's always a challenge to keep up with considering how fast the bloody class moves, but hey, I like a challenge, and besides, the class is fascinating."

"Dunno how you can think that one, mate," said Charlie, shaking his head.

"Numbers link the world together," Daine said cryptically.

Charlie shrugged. He had no interest in that kind of thing. He'd rather take Advanced Potions, where he could learn something practical, where the benefits are immediate and obvious.

Daine and his friends spent the next few minutes comparing their schedules. Daine had Charms, Muggle Studies, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Astronomy with both Jack and Charlie. He had Ancient Runes with just Jack, and Advanced Potions with just Charlie. It looked like he would have Arithmancy by himself.

His friends all talked excitedly about their classes, and Daine couldn't help but join them.

"Think McGonagall will finally teach us something useful?" Terry joked.

"Everything she's taught us is useful!" Daine seemed outraged. Transfiguration was his favourite subject.

"Oh yeah, turning my teacup into a turtle is real useful. Gonna have a lot of practical applications for that in the future." Terry rolled his eyes.

"Well obviously _not_ if that's your attitude. We can't all just jump straight into elemental transfiguration. You have to usually learn the _basics_ of something before you can get to the fun parts, right? Well, generally the basics are _fucking useless_, save for being the building blocks you need to progress to bigger and better things, so bite me."

Terry looked rather stunned. Most people forgot that Jack was capable of the same sarcastic bite as every Ravenclaw, considering his normally sweet disposition. He scowled and Jack smiled with false sincerity at him.

"So there you have it, mate," Charlie smirked. "Don't complain about Transfiguration and eat all your vegetables and then Jack will let you go without a fight."

Terry scowled, realizing he was beaten. "So what about this mandatory Muggle Studies thing?" He changed the topic quickly.

"Seems a bit fishy to me," said Charlie. "But look at who they've got teaching the class. That's not bound to end well."

Everyone at the table was, for once, in agreement.

Daine walked into the classroom with Charlie and Jack. The early morning sunlight came through the open windows; a slight mist could be seen over the rolling slopes of the school grounds. Not a bad day for the start of classes, Daine figured.

Daine took a seat against the wall, Jack to his right and Charlie behind him. Some students were taking out textbooks (Those that had previously opted to take the course before it became mandatory) but most of the class sat there chatting amongst themselves, until Carrow showed up.

She strode through the door, her heaving bulk moved by short, stilted legs. She sidled into her position behind the desk and with a flick of her wand the words 'Muggle Studies: The Unseen Menace' appeared on the blackboard behind her.

"My name is Professor Carrow," she said gruffly. "As part of some educational reform courtesy of the Ministry, I'm here to teach you about Muggles. I don't need any of you sympathizing with them. If any of you have anything good to say about their lot, you can either shut up or get out. It won't be tolerated."

Daine and Jack glanced at each other, expressions grim. _They weren't even trying to be subtle about it_, he thought.

"Most everything you've been told about _Muggles,_" she spat the word, as though it were a curse, "is a lie. Most of you probably believe that Muggles are harmless and docile creatures, wallowing about in their own ignorance, yes?"

Some of the Ravenclaws shrugged or nodded, but the Gryffindors, who they were sharing the class with, mostly stayed silent. Daine noticed that Neville, in particular, had a hard look on his face that he'd never seen before. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion and his mouth compressed into a thin line.

"That is a lie perpetrated by the sympathizers. They're the ones just waiting for the Muggles to try and rise up and overthrow us. They're already kissing at their feet, hoping to be treated mercifully."

There were muted noises of disbelief spreading around the classroom. Daine saw Neville put his head in his hands. Daine caught himself smiling, too. _How could anyone believe this crap?_

"Laugh if you will," she growled, "The threat is real. Muggles may not have weapons like those we possess, but they have a strength that we'll never have: Sheer numbers. If our world were exposed to them, they would stop at nothing until they could consume us for their own gain."

The class went silent now, as they considered. Daine still scoffed. Firstly, there was no way that Muggles could possibly fully expose their world, and two, there was no way that the Muggles would attempt to control them, either. If anything, they'd try and destroy witches and wizards like in ages past, in fear of them. But naturally, they didn't want people thinking like that.

Professor Carrow spent the rest of the class doing an introduction to wizard persecution throughout history. Even though History of Magic directly contradicted what she said (Wizards and witches were actually rarely in any danger from Muggles, even when they chose to reveal themselves), she ploughed on as though it all didn't matter, and most of the students were willing to accept this as nonsense and just copy the notes to be done with it.

One student was unsatisfied with this, however. Neville Longbottom seemed to grow increasingly more annoyed throughout the class.

"And then there were magical folk like Wendelin the Weird, repeatedly captured and tortured because of their abilities."

Neville's hand shot up.

"What?" she barked at him, making several students that had been nodding off jump.

"We learned in History of Magic that Wendelin the Weird had some kind of perverse obsession with being captured, and willingly allowed herself to be burned over 40 times. She used a flame freezing charm so that she didn't feel a thing when they actually burned her. Somehow I wouldn't call that _torture_," he said, the disdain clear in his voice.

"Really?" she said, turning to him. "And what was your name again?"

"Neville Longbottom," he said, his confidence wavering slightly. He already knew where this was going.

A cruel smile played across her face. "Ah, so you'd know all about torture, now wouldn't you?"

He was standing now. Daine didn't like where this was going at all. The whole class sat in stunned silence, watching.

"You _pathetic, vile creature_-"

"No Neville! She's not worth it!" Seamus shook him from his seat beside. But it was too late. Like there was an electric charge running through his body, Seamus let go.

"_CRUCIO!_"

Neville was writhing on the floor, screaming in pain. There were gasps and screams across the classroom.

Daine watched in horror as the Carrow, still grinning, continued to inflict pain on Neville. All of the Gryffindors were half crouched out of their desks, ready to go help Neville at the first chance they got. But none of them were willing to run in front of the Cruciatus Curse for him.

"Would you call_ that_ torture, Longbottom?" she growled at him as he continued to yell in pain. Abruptly, she stopped. She straightened and turned to face the class again.

"Let that be a warning to all of you. All of the teachers in this school will direct you to us for punishment when you step your ickle toes out of line. We think our methods have much better results than simple detentions, and the Headmaster agrees."

Well, that certainly changed things in Daine's mind. The teachers could torture students that misbehaved. Just _great._

His mental ranting stopped as Neville got up from the floor and returned to his desk. Daine expected to see him broken, pushed into his place. Instead, he looked angrier than Daine had ever seen him. He glared at the Carrow, and she glared right back. There was a moment of tension in the room until the bell rang and defused the situation. Daine, along with most of the rest of the class, made for the exit as fast as possible.

Who else was waiting for him outside the classroom but Tricia Jones? Daine looked at her in surprise and said, "How did you get here?"

She flashed him a winning smile, "It's called First Period spare, Dainius. You eggheads have probably never heard of the concept of a 'spare', but it's when you take a free period to do things besides go to class. It must be a hard concept to grasp-"

"Okay, I've got it. My spare isn't till last period, before dinner. What I _meant_ was how the hell did you know where I'd be?"

She just tapped the side of her head with her wand and smiled again. Daine glared at her, and with a laugh she said, "I ran into Boot. I was…. _Persuasive_, so he told me what I needed to know."

Daine just shook his head at her. He didn't even want to know what she ended up doing to win Terry over. Instead of worrying about that, he turned to his two best friends, who had just come up to where he and Tricia were talking. They began to walk toward the stairs, so that they could head to the Great Hall for their break. Normally they would take it outside, but they didn't quite fancy being searched on the way in and out just for a break.

"Fucking _Merlin_, did you see that?!" Jack was reeling as they sat down. Daine didn't know why he didn't feel the same way. He felt numb. He considered that perhaps he was just in shock.

Tricia looked between him and Jack. Even Charlie's regular tomato-red face had drained of colour.

"What? What the hell happened? You look like you just waltzed with a Dementor!" She said, poking Charlie in his rather solid chest. She retracted her finger quickly.

He quickly relayed what Muggle Studies now entailed, and then Daine told her about what had happened to Neville.

Tricia seemed much less shocked about it all than her Ravenclaw friends. "Well, didn't he sort of deserve it? Hell, remember what happened when you provoked Umbridge? You poke the wolf; you're going to get bitten. These two are even worse, so why the hell would you give them any reason? Just duh."

Daine gave her a reproachful look. "She was teaching us rubbish. All he did was prove to her how rubbish it was."

"Do you really think people like eating their own words, Daine? Really? Especially these two characters? I've got news for you," and her voice dropped until it was barely above a whisper, "They're _Death Eaters._ Yeah, really sound like the type of teacher you want to provoke, huh?"

Daine was about to argue back, but Jack cut in.

"How do you know that?" Jack was suspicious. "They're evil enough and all, but we've been wrong before. I'd have sworn Umbridge was a Death Eater, but it turns out she's just a Voldemort fangirl. How do you know these two are any different?"

"Jack, Jack, Jack," she shook her head in mock sadness. "You forget. I'm in _Slytherin._ That means that I hear things the rest of you sad folk could only dream about."

"Oh. Yeah. Right." Jack fell silent.

"Listen, I'd love to stay and argue this further, but if we don't leave _right now_ then we're going to be late."

Daine laughed inwardly. Leave it to Charlie to know exactly how long it would take for them to get from this exact place to their next class.

Charlie and Jack said their goodbyes and then strode off to Herbology, while Daine began heading up to the fifth floor for Arithmancy with Professor Vector. Tricia walked with him.

"Is your next class up here?"

"Nope. Potions in the dungeons with Slughorn. You know I've never been one for punctuality. Slughorn knows too. I'll see him in 10 minutes and he'll think nothing of it."

"I see."

"So talk to me, _Dainius_. What's your schedule like? You must have at least one spare where you can come visit me in class," she smiled sweetly.

He ignored the fact that she used his full name other than scowling when he heard it, and replied "I'm not going to visit you in any classes. I'll probably have enough homework as it is. Hell, it's more likely that _you_ will end up visiting _me_ during those classes."

She laughed softly, and Daine realized how much he loved the sound. It wasn't one of those annoying high laughs, but it wasn't barking laughter either. It was just warm and friendly. It made you want to join in. He settled for smiling at her instead.

"Probably," she agreed.

"It's good to see you again, Daine." And he realized that they were already standing in front of his class. _That was fast._

He also realized that his heart was beating very rapidly as she waved and stalked off down the hallway, presumably to her class. _Relax, Daine. She probably said that too all of her friends. It doesn't mean anything. Jesus, I'm so hopeless._

He shook his head and stepped into the class, his mind still clearly elsewhere. He was only slightly late, and Professor Vector smiled at him anyway (Daine had particularly high marks in Arithmancy), and asked him to find a seat. He scanned the classroom to see if anyone he knew was taking it, and sure enough, much to his surprise, Terry Boot was sitting by himself toward the front of the class. Daine walked over and sat down next to him.

"Who Imperius'd you into taking this one?" Daine smiled at him.

"You'd think that, wouldn't you? I did well enough in this one last year, I figured I might continue on in it and try and earn some '_distinction from my peers'. _Least that's what Mum says, anyway."

"I thought so."

They spent the rest of the class doing their only refresher. Everything they had learned last year was condensed into one double lesson, and then they would begin anew next class. They had very little opportunity to talk during the class, busy as they were.

Daine and Terry walked to lunch together, meeting their friends. Terry went to sit with the other Ravenclaws, while Daine grabbed some food and went to go find Tricia and William with Charlie and Jack. It passed quickly and soon enough they were all off to their next classes.

Charms was one of the classes that they had together with the Slytherins. William preferred to sit on his own, as did Draco Malfoy, who was also present (He seemed to have arranged for alternate transportation to the school, as Tricia and William had been sure that he was not on the train). So Daine, Charlie and Jack all sat together.

The class was, as to be expected, a freebie. They were learning more practical spells, as ever, and so it was a fun class that was relatively easy when compared with Daine's last class. He enjoyed the opportunity to actually get up and _do_ magic, for at least one class, anyway.

When Charms was over, they all had a free period. Charlie was busy planning out Quidditch trials for this year's team, which as far as he knew, was still green lighted. Daine and Jack decided to spend it doing the homework that they wouldn't do that night.

When they were all finished they went down to dinner. In between mouthfuls of roast beef, they plotted the night. They figured they would use the one-eyed witch passageway to get William into Hogsmeade. They had made the one-eyed witch their informal meeting place, which gave them the pretense to sit there and guard it carefully.

At 7 PM, when dinner ended, they went to the third floor together. Tricia and William were already waiting there, looking supremely bored.

After scanning the hall, William pulled out his wand.

"So we meet back here at 10, and head out to the grounds from there."

They agreed, and William tapped the witch with his wand and muttered '_dissendium'_. The statue retracted to reveal a narrow stone slide that led to the passage below.

"Sure you don't want to come along, then?" he said, nudging Tricia.

"I'm sure there will be plenty of wenches enough for you, William." She sounded like she was talking to a 10 year old.

He ignored her and decided to berate Jack instead. "How about you? I'm sure we could find you a strapping wizard willing to take you to bed." He winked at him.

"Just because I'm gay, doesn't mean I'm going to jump on the first guy I see, _Guillaume_."

William just laughed. "You are right. I was thinking that you are too much like myself. This is clearly not the case." He then flashed a brilliantly white smile at them and jumped down the tunnel.

It was agreed that they would wait 10 minutes just in case the plans changed. So they stood there, listening intently for any noise below the statue (which they'd moved back into place), or down the hall, which was fortunately deserted. Students weren't allowed to be out of their Common Rooms this late, of course, but it was better to risk that then to leave and have the plans change for the night. That could end in disaster.

They were getting ready to go, when suddenly they heard a voice down the hall. All four of them froze. None of them could make it out, but it sounded male, harsh and guttural. _Definitely one of the teachers doing a patrol._

They panicked as they looked around for anywhere to hide. They were out in the open, and they'd never be able to make it to a classroom without whoever it was noticing. They had only one option, which was to hide in the passageway.

Tricia tapped it with her wand and whispered the incantation, as the voice grew louder. She urged everyone in, and as silently as possible they plunged down the slide to the bottom of the passageway. Daine was last and looked her in the eyes before dropping down. Tricia set herself in, and as she turned around attempted to levitate the statue back over the hole. It would have moved itself back eventually, but they couldn't risk having the passageway exposed.

It nearly worked.

The statue rose up and over the hole, covering it, but even dropping the scant few inches it was from the ground, it made an audible noise. There was only a thin crack of light coming from the statue's base, and the group sat in silence in the darkness of the passage.

With creeping horror, they realized, via the way the light was sometimes blocked, that the teacher was poking around trying to find where the noise had come from.

Silently, Charlie motioned them further down the tunnel. They walked as quietly as possible down the passageway until Charlie ran full on into something.

There was hushed cursing and several members of the party had to clamp hands over their mouths to keep from yelling.

Five wands flashed light into the tunnel. It was William, looking ragged and winded.

"_Dementors_," he breathed.

Sorry this update's been so long coming. Writing this chapter has been a challenge, and with AHM on the side I've been a little distracted. The next chapter will follow soon. Also, the title is another song reference, this time to one by King Diamond. If you've heard it, you might know why it's particularly appropriate for this chapter.


	6. Thin Margins, New Nature

**Five: Thin Margins, New Nature, Forced Consequences**

**Summary: **In his 7th year at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw Dainius Kaminskas has his life turned upside down by a relic from the past: a journal of unimaginable importance that forever changes his life, and changes the rules of magic. While he struggles with the other students to carry on life as they knew it at a darker, more sinister, Snape-run Hogwarts, he must make decisions that will alter the course of the war, and the world. This story is completely independent of and compliant with Book Seven.

**  
Disclaimer: **Beyond the characters that I've invented here, and some of the plot elements, I really own nothing here. I make no claim to own anything that JKR created; I'm just playing in her sandbox for a while.

William breathed heavily. His hair was a mess, and his eyes wild. He looked like he had just made a quick escape, and given his proclamation; Daine figured that was the case.

Before he could even think anything else, Charlie hissed, "_WHAT?_" rather too loudly for Daine's comfort.

Several people motioned for him to be quiet. It was hard for Daine to tell whom, no one was very focused on keeping their wands trained in any useful direction anymore.

They pressed William for more information, but he was going through the aftershocks of encounter, and refused to whisper anything more than "_D-Dementors_" endlessly.

Daine assumed that he had encountered Dementors in Hogsmeade, and that he was being pursued back down the tunnel by them. This news did not help Daine's mood at all.

He began swearing to himself, slow and steady, a stream of cursing under his breath as he headed back toward the base of the passage where they had entered.

He had concluded that they were trapped, and he didn't like it at all. Dementors on one end, a possibly homicidal teacher on the other. He looked up through the crack of light and heard a grunt of exertion. A very male grunt. Whoever it was, he was trying to move the statue by force. Daine smiled grimly, knowing that they would have no luck.

What he needed was _time_. Eventually the teacher or Filch or whoever the hell it was would give up and leave. While he was waiting for that to happen, however, he could have his soul sucked out. Suddenly, he heard a voice, muffled but still quite discernable through the crack.

"_MOVE_ you fucking bastard!" the voice roared at the statue. He wasn't sure what was going on, but it seemed they had stopped pushing. He didn't recognize the voice, but it was easy to guess who it belonged to. The other Carrow was on top of their only escape.

_So, let's see, torture, or loss of soul. Really great options_, Daine thought. And with that, he was plunged into complete darkness, save for his wand, as the statue magically repositioned itself over the hole.

His friends were suddenly all around him. He strained to listen, but he could hear nothing. He didn't need to hear though, because he could _feel_ it.

It was like the air was growing colder. It wasn't like a draft or anything, the air was absolutely still, but he soon found that he could see his breath in the light of the wand. The Dementors were coming.

He strained to hear again, but this time he was listening for noise above the statue. Silence. Frost was magically appearing at his feet. His friends were looking frantic, except William, who stood there, unmoving besides to shiver.

The only person Daine could think of that knew how to repel a Dementor was Terry Boot, as he often showed off his Patronus in the common room. None of them knew how. None of them had attended a single DA meeting. _Damn._

Their time was up. Daine knew that torture, however horrible, was still better than whatever the Dementors had in store for them. He waved his wand in a wide arc, and then statue removed itself once more. Not even bothering to see if the teacher was still above him, Daine and his friends scrambled for the opening.

The Dementors were very nearly on top of them. Daine could feel his heart begin to freeze. He felt his steps falter, and he knew then that he was falling, and being dragged back down the tunnel. His breath grew short. Vision cloudy, he tried fruitlessly to claw his way up the passage.

He wasn't thinking about death. Daine didn't find himself thinking about anything much, just then, and when he'd look back on the event later, it all appeared as a blur of darkness to him.

The light of the mouth of the tunnel had all but vanished when he felt a burning sensation on his arm. He didn't know what it was, but he clung to the warmth like it was the most precious thing in the world. And in that moment, it was. There was nothing more important than holding on.

Momentarily blinded, Daine attempted to catch his footing, slipping on the rough stone of what he assumed to be the passage floor. He was being hauled upward by an unseen force, his vision was awash with blinding light. He felt the cold leave his heart. Mutedly, as though from a great distance, he heard someone shout "Cover the passage, now!" and cringed at the sound of stone on stone.

Slowly, he became aware of his surroundings as his vision returned and the ice left his body. He felt like he had just emerged from a pool of freezing water, and he shivered madly. He noted vaguely that someone was leaning over him, staring into his eyes with concern. He saw the red hair dangling in front of a face, and realized belatedly that it was Tricia. She waved her fingers in front of his eyes, and they refocused and followed those fingers, delicate and pale in the little light afforded to the hallway by the torches.

"He's back," he heard her say softly, presumably to the others.

Daine tried to sit up, and nearly fell back over again when he felt soft, small hands grab his shoulders and haul him upward till he was in a sitting position. The hands were on his cheeks, and they burned into his wintry skin. He felt his vision begin to return, and there was Tricia Jones.

She didn't look too great, either, Daine noted, now that he focused on her. Her blue eyes were wide with fear, and her white skin seemed even paler. She was drained of all colour, her freckles nearly invisible.

Daine grabbed her hands, still on his face, and held them for warmth. He only became of how awkward this gesture was when he saw the others watching. Tricia said nothing, but he let go anyway, embarrassed.

"What happened?" he decided changing the topic would clear the air.

"I took the passage as usual," William began, speaking immediately. "I got into Hogsmeade without any issue, either. Honeydukes was closed, of course, but I was quiet getting out of there. As soon as I got into the street, though, I saw them. Fog everywhere; there they were, floating in the sky, dozens of them. I managed to get back into Honeydukes, and I figured the Dementors wouldn't follow. I was wrong, I guess this is their territory now. Everything is." He shuddered, and continued. "I ran my arse off down that tunnel, and they chased me. I don't know how I managed to get this far. Some kind of magic followed me into that tunnel, anyway. Either way, I ran smack into one of you-" Charlie waved in acknowledgement, "Well, you took over from there. Why the hell weren't any of you going for the exit?"

It was Daine who answered this time. "There was a teacher above, searching for a way in. One of the Carrows, which left us trapped between a rock and a hard place," he finished grimly.

William's eyes widened in understanding, and then narrowed again angrily. "That was a very dangerous game you played, Dainius. We could all be soulless right now."

"Yeah, well, wasn't thinking. None of the rest of these heroes volunteered to go up there either," he snapped.

William continued to glare at him, but said nothing.

"So what the hell happened to me?" Daine asked finally.

It was Charlie who spoke up this time. "We all waited till the last second and then you moved the statue. Everyone tried to get out of there at once, and the Dementors just showed up. You sort of fell, and started… Moving backward. It was weird. Really weird. It was like they were pulling you back or something, but they weren't doing anything at all. So I grabbed you and dragged you out myself. Jack put the statue back over the passage right after."

"Still, I wouldn't mind getting the _hell_ out of here," Jack interjected.

"That sounds like a fantastic idea," Tricia agreed.

The two houses went their separate ways. With one last glance between Tricia and Daine, they too parted.

Before they knew it, it was the next morning. They had made it back undetected, but the ill consequences of their failed attempted were felt all over the school. The Carrows seemed to be everywhere now, and twice as brutal. Daine was sure his classmates knew that something had happened to cause this, but he wasn't about to volunteer his story just now.

Days turned into weeks. October was fast approaching, and with summer already over, autumn was on its way. It was a gloomy Wednesday morning and Daine was on his way to his first class of the day, Transfiguration. Fortunately all of his friends were also with him on the way to the class. Ravenclaws seemed to gravitate toward Transfiguration for some reason, which he found a little odd given the Gryffindor teacher.

They all sat down and unpacked their books quietly, hyperaware of Professor McGonagall's keen gaze piercing through the souls of everyone in the classroom. She smiled a very faint smile as they looked up at her, waiting for her to begin the class.

"Elemental Transfiguration," she began, "Is one of the most difficult areas of an already incredibly complex branch of magic. As you've been learning so far, transfiguration can be a lot more delicate than turning a tortoise into a teacup. Can anyone tell me why this is?"

No one volunteered. Daine sighed and meant to raise his hand, but she had already rounded on Draco Malfoy, also in the class.

"Mr. Malfoy. Can you tell me why this is?"

"Something about the fact that individual properties can be modified directly, instead of the whole?" Malfoy mumbled. He did not like being singled out here.

"Yes, quite. For those of you who did not hear Mr. Malfoy, he said that advanced transfiguration involves changing the individual properties of an object, not the whole object itself. It requires finesse, and delicacy. The most basic property modification is the reversal. Through magic, you can take the quality of an object, and reverse it."

A hand shot up in the air, it was Jack's. "Yes, Clements?"

"Human transfiguration is possible. Can we change individual attributes with humans as well?"

"Yes, it is possible. Physical attributes, anyway, can be modified. Not all of them, it's a very specific sort of magic. Emotional, personal and psychological attributes are much more complex, and thus exceedingly difficult to modify, at least not permanently. Ten points to Ravenclaw for inquiry."

Malfoy didn't even bother to look outraged. He didn't look much anything at all, besides tired. The deep purple shadows under his eyes only stood out more thanks to the paleness of his skin. _Someone's losing sleep._ _I guess being a Death Eater isn't all it's cracked up to be._

She waited until the muted noises of annoyance coming from the Slytherins stopped, and then continued. "As some of you may well imagine, this branch of magic can be extremely powerful, as well as extremely dangerous. Thus, for today's lesson I would ask you to proceed with extra caution."

Daine looked up, interested. _Does mean we're actually going to do some real magic?_ He had been growing steadily more frustrated as they did bookwork and notes for the past several weeks. He had hoped that being in Advanced Transfiguration had meant that they would get to do exactly that… _Advanced_ Transfiguration.

McGonagall swept her wand across the room, and small white candles appeared on each desk in front of a student. The class stared up at her in confusion.

"As I have said, Transfiguration at the elemental level leaves many individual properties to be modified. You are to light these candles, and modify one of the chief properties. Your goal, by the end of this class, is to have changed the flame from fire to water. It will of course extinguish immediately, due to the contradictory nature of the other unmodified properties. You have the rest of class to complete this assignment."

Daine learned that the incantation he needed was called 'Levi Mutatio'. The magic itself was far more complex than that, however, the words alone not enough to cause the transformation. According to his textbook, one had to distinctly hold the various properties in their head, and focus on changing them. In this case, they had to firmly picture the flame turning into water and evaporating. It was very difficult to picture something like this when you had no idea whether or not you were doing it right, and what it would look like.

Daine was, admittedly, not a terribly imaginative person. Tricia was creative enough for all of them. Thus, he had a hard time trying to imagine what the flame would look like as water, if only for a split second, as he prodded the wick alight with the tip of his wand.

The rest of the class was spent attempting the magic, with little success. The most Daine could do is make his candle begin to sweat. Charlie was staring his down, looking mildly constipated. In the end it was Jack who met with success.

Jack had cast the spell non-verbally, so Daine was greatly surprised when he heard the fat hiss that came when something that was much too hot was quenched with water. He whipped his head in time to see Jack say "Whoa," staring at the steam drifting through the air.

Daine and Charlie laughed at him, but he was only smug as he was awarded another 10 points to Ravenclaw for being the first to successfully cast it. Astoria Greengrass was next, and earned Slytherin 10 points of their own.

Daine never managed to get the spell quite right for himself before the class ended, but he watched Jack cast it several more times. It was amazing how the flame seemed to turn a silvery-clear before it evaporated. He almost wished that he could slow it down to see better. Jack was quite good at the spell. The trick was to properly focus on the detail you wanted to modify. It wasn't something that could be easily explained, but once learned for oneself, it became much easier.

It frustrated Daine that he couldn't get the spell. He committed himself to the goal of mastering the spell by the end of the evening. He had a mountain of homework, and Quidditch trials were also tonight. He felt obligated to go, and whenever anyone asked why he was there, he assured them it was because his two best friends were on the team, even though it was quite apparent that he spent no time at all watching his friends, but rather talking to the attractive redhead who always sat next to him.

Daine managed to make his way through the rest of the day, including another in a long line of appalling Muggle Studies classes. It was just business as usual, anymore. He had learned to tune it out. Even Defense Against the Dark Arts, which had simply been shortened to 'The Dark Arts', lately, became bareable after a while.

He was expecting more of the same as he walked into the classroom. The other Carrow, who was just as insane as his sister, would glorify the Dark Arts for an hour, and they would have to suffer through it. _Just another day at Hogwarts_, he thought as he sat down.

"Today," said the Carrow, his voice even sounding grimey, much like his appearance, "You lot'll be starting with the Unforgivables. Got a bunch of miscreants being brought in to do their detentions. Don't stop until these students are adequately punished. Given your colours," he scowled disapprovingly at the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs that made up the class, "We could be here a while. That's all. Go." He gestured dismissively at the them and then turned to flop into the chair behind his desk.

The class just sat there, confused as to what they were supposed to be doing, when the door burst open and Alecto Carrow hauled in a group of of approximately ten students, chained together.

"Stand here!" she barked, ordering them against the wall. Some looked weak and afraid, while others were prideful and stubborn, a few even resisted until they got whipped by their chains.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at Daine and nodded his head. Daine surveyed the heads present in the makeshift chaingang, and supressed a smile. Zacharias Smith, not exactly Charlie's biggest fan on the Quidditch pitch, was standing there, trying his best to look defiant. Daine quickly shifted his face back to a neutral expression. Torture was a horrible thing to wish on someone, no matter how much of a big-mouthed Hufflepuff tosser they were.

Some of the other Ravenclaws were less sympathetic, however. Daine recognized a Weasley in the group, the girl, struggling against her chains. He was reminded very much of Tricia and it hurt to watch her be tortured. But the students, whether they enjoyed it or not, had no choice. It was either torture or be tortured. Amycus had his feet up on the desk, but he was watching them all very closely. No one would be allowed to show any mercy.

The good thing was that the hatred needed for the Cruciatus Curse to do any real damage was not present. Try as he might (And he did try, he did not fancy being tortured properly, himself), Daine could not summon the hate needed to effectively punish his captive, some whimpering Gryffindor. He suspected his grade for todays class would be a poor one. Upon reflection, he decided that he didn't much care.

The class was dismissed shortly after, and Daine and his friends went to dinner discussing the sad state of the school. Charlie and Jack each powered through their meals, as Quidditch trials were in an hour and Charlie needed to be there early, as he was captain. Daine finished his meal slowly, nervous. He was going to meet Tricia in their usual spot, but it would only be her and William there. William. Daine sighed, wishing very deeply that the tall Slytherin had found something else to do this evening. If he was there, it'd be sure that he wouldn't get a single moment alone with Tricia. _Bloody typical_, Daine thought.

He walked quickly to the third floor, checking around him the whole way, paranoid. There were plenty of students milling about however, as it wasn't that late, and Daine soon began to relax. He found himself in front of the statue of the witch once more, and there was Tricia waiting for him, looking bored.

An 'Oh' of surprise escaped his lips before he even knew what he was doing. He had expected William to be there, almost counted on him to be there. Now faced with the opportunity of being alone with Tricia Jones for the next few hours, he panicked.

Seeing the expression on his face, she laughed. She poked him in the ribs. "I was wondering when you'd get here," she said, faking a yawn. "Waiting in front of this statue is a lot less interesting when you don't plan on using it for anything," she complained.

Daine tried to smile. "Where's William?"

"Found himself otherwise preoccupied for the evening." She leaned in closer, and pretended to whisper confidentially, "Between you and me, he's going back for seconds. I don't think dear Willy has had a change of heart, I think he's just using it as an excuse so that he doesn't have to come here tonight. He's not too fond of this passage anymore."

Daine froze, and the smile fell of his face. Tricia gave him an annoyed look.

"What's your problem, Daine? I was joking. That was funny, damnit!" She realized that Daine was staring past her, unmoving, and she turned around quickly. The passage had become noticeably empty, and the silence made her blush. She saw the reason: Amycus Carrow was striding up the hall toward them.

"What are you lot doing here?" he snarled at them. Daine turned to look at Tricia, "We just decided to meet here, professor. We're going to the Quidditch trials right now-"

Amycus cut him off, "Say I don't believe you," he said quickly. "Say I think it was you lot what was here last night, under the statue."

"We have no idea what you're talking about," Tricia said; slowly, deliberately.

"You don't, do you? Well I think you do. I think a little work with my wand here might loosen your tongue and have you spilling your guts in no time!"

He grabbed his wand and both Daine and Tricia raised theirs in protection. Before either of them could do so much as cast a spell, however, a shield charm had sprung between them.

"HALT!" came the screech from down the corridor. All three of them turned to look, and there was Minerva McGonagall, cold fury in her eyes, barreling down the hallway. Her wand was out and pointed at Amycus. He growled and let his wand drop to his side.

"Mr. Carrow," she said, a severe frown creasing her face. "Can you kindly explain to me why you were about to torture these two students in the middle of this hallway?"

"These two were sneaking out the castle last night. There's a passage under this statue that they were a trying to use. They managed to escape last night into the village. I want answers."

"And did you see these two at all last night?" she asked coldly.

"That's besides the point. I know it was them-"

"No, that is entirely the point, Amycus. You cannot prove that these students have done anything wrong. Go," she said, motioning for him to leave.

He gave the two students one final scowl and then stalked off down the hall. "Meddling bitch," they heard him mutter.

McGonagall's wand twitched, and for a fraction of a second Daine was sure that she was going to curse him. But in the blink of an eye it was relaxed again.

She turned to them. "Go. Just remember that us teachers cannot be everywhere at once to protect you. Take caution." She spun once more and left them standing in the hall again.

They walked down to the Quidditch pitch, where the trials were already well underway. Charlie was busy putting the potentials through the paces, but he wasn't paying any attention. Sat on the bleachers, slightly cold thanks to the night air, Daine was pretending to watch the tryouts. He was almost sure he was imagining it, but he kept sensing Tricia watching him while she was sure he wasn't looking.

Daine decided mentally that it was now or never. Quidditch Trials had ended, and Daine walked behind Tricia, watching his breath in the air as he worked up the courage to do what would come next. They were on the stairs exiting the bleachers, in the darkness surrounded by canvas when Daine finally managed to call her name in a low voice. More a sort of choked whisper, he thought. _Too late now_.

She turned to him, looking curiously. He began to move closer to her, and it seemed he had crossed the gap much too quickly. Suddenly she was right in front of him. She looked up into his eyes, and the curiosity was gone. Those eyes betrayed no feeling. He said nothing, and she expected nothing. He felt his heart racing as he looked down at her.

Was this how it was supposed to happen? Did he just keep leaning in? Daine wished desperately that he had some kind of guidance. He could hear her slow breathing, forced, controlled. _This is it_.

He closed his eyes.

He moved in closer still.

He tilted his head slightly sideways.

He felt his nose briefly touch hers.

Her fingers against his lips.

Daine's eyes fluttered open to look into hers. Her face was a controlled mask, but that fact alone meant that something was very wrong. _And the fingers in front of my mouth, _he thought belatedly. He looked at her questioningly, saying nothing. Her mask slipped very briefly, and he saw a sadness in her eyes. _Why?_

"No, Daine," she whispered. And, her fingers trailing softly across his lips, she turned and walked away down the stairs and out of sight. Daine was left standing in the dark, feeling very foolish indeed.

"_Fuck_," he muttered.

This has been way too long coming. I'll try and get chapters out faster from this point forward. Definitely no more month-long gaps.


End file.
